


Kiddy Corral

by wimsicalpan



Series: Kiddy Corral [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Casual Sex, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Follows the series, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Pre-Supernatural (TV), Romance, Story within a Story, Teen Angst, Teenagers, eventually follows the series, own story arcs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-19 00:48:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 59
Words: 116,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1449130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wimsicalpan/pseuds/wimsicalpan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1987, April was the first time Charlotte Dixon and the Winchester brothers met, left to be babysat by Bobby whilst their parents hunted the monsters that lurked in the night. That night marked the first meeting of many more to come and a second wind in the change in the course of history.</p><p>*****</p><p>"I hate you."<br/>"I hate you too."</p><p>*****<br/>(First in a series of au's that follow the series)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1987 - April

**Author's Note:**

> This is something that took a while to get started and so I'd sat on it for a while. I'd always wondered what would it be like if Bobby looked after other kids for other Hunters and so, Kiddy Corral was born. 
> 
> It's a story that mostly follows Charlotte Dixon, but will follow other characters at various points throughout the story. (Tags will be updated as chapters/characters are added) It will follow the series eventually so there will be a lot of chapters.
> 
> The way that I structure the chapters is that each one focuses on a point in a month in a year (which is shown in the chapter titles). Not every interaction is documented so imagine that the chapters only focus on key parts of the characters lives rather then every single point. They will see each other between chapters unless stated otherwise. 
> 
> There is going to be some A/U stuff in some places. This means that a couple of things may happen differently to the series or a little bit earlier. As already stated there is going to be a lot of pre-series stuff happening before I start to follow the series. This story is the same as the one featured on FF.net but I am making edits and fixing issues and wanted to share it here as well. This is going to be part one in a series of stories with Charlotte at the focus.

_South Dakota, Sioux Falls_

Her tiny hands folded themselves into the creases of the worn blue jeans that her father wore. She pressed her head tightly to her father's leg. “You promised,” the little voice mumbled into the fabric, her voice desperate and pleading. She turned her set of tear stained blue eyes up. “You promised.”

Her father, Peter Dixon, stole a glance to the other man in the room, Bobby Singer. The latter took the slight hint in brown-gold eyes, the quick dart to the kitchen that sat to the left of them. When the two of them were alone, or as alone as one could be in a very open house, he turned his eyes back down to his little girl. “Lottie-”

In a flash watery blue eyes were on him, brows knotted in anger, confusion and hurt, or as close to those emotions a five year old could present. “No. You said just one more. Then that was it. You promised. You never break promises. That’s what you said!”

He knelt down, now, to level his eyes with hers, soft, worried and desperate. “I know honey, I know. But I _need_ to do this. For your mother.”

Those words, _for your mother_ , triggered the response he hated. Triggered the response he didn’t want to be greeted with. Lottie, _Charlotte_ , turned on her heels and said, “You always say that.”

“This thing hurt your mother.”

“And so did the last thing.” She turned, eyes angry again and tears threatening to spill down pale cheeks, flushed from the argument. “And the thing before that, and the thing before that. Stop lying!”

Peter stretched a hand out, fingers reaching to push stray strands of blonde hair out of saddened eyes. “Lottie-”

Before his fingers could reach their goal she turned and ran. Loud heavy sobs fell in every quick footstep she took. Away. From him. From what he was going to do. Go on another hunt. Kill another thing. Leave her behind.

“Lottie!”

She’d been to Bobby’s place enough times, enough being three including that day’s visit, to already have a favourite spot. Out the back door and into the junkyard. Down the third line of cars and into the rusted metal frame of a dark blue one. The seats were old and mottled with holes but held enough foam to be comfortable when the front seats were stretched back over the rear seats. A flat bed of dirty, old foam and peeling, speckled grey leather that held the bitter tangy smell of rust, sour turned carpet and leaking oil. But she loved it.

_“This is a 1970 Pontiac GTO.”_

_“Can I sit in it?”_

_A moment as Bobby checked the car over with his eyes. “Sure. Just don’t touch anything.”_

She sat on her knees, arms folded over the top of the large steering wheel, eyes glaring at the back door. He would leave. She knew it. But that didn’t mean she had to like it and as long as he knew she didn’t like it he could leave.

But she did hope.

The sound of an engine starting, roaring and clawing at the base of her spine, crawled away until she could no longer hear it. Once that sound was gone, the familiar squeal of brakes that were too tight, metal creaking against metal with every movement the old thing made, she dropped her eyes, her arms and her body onto the foam. Curled her arms around her face, dug eyes into the bare flesh of her arms and cried.

Seconds stretched into minutes, then hours. The back of her throat was growing sore from the wrenching her body was delivering with every sob. She hadn’t moved since she’d heard his car disappear. Hadn’t moved since she’d felt her heart drop into her stomach and dissolve in the acid settled there.

She hated him.

“Charlotte?” The loud screech of the rusted door wasn’t enough to coax her from her howling. Neither was the hand on her back, rubbing soft circles over rumpled clothing. “Sweetie.”

“I hate him.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yeah I do. I hate him.”

And just like that Uncle Bobby said the one thing that always made her smile in situations like these. “I’ve got ice cream. Strawberry flavour.” A chuckle grappled through the tears to soften damp eyes and a terrible mood. “Want me to go get it for you?”

Her head, still in her arms with eyes pressed firmly against heated skin, nodded. Blonde curls fell over her arms and Bobby’s hand rubbed her back once more before he disappeared. He wouldn’t bring it to her. It would sit on the desk in the kitchen, spoon stuck into the frozen dessert that he wouldn’t scoop from the tub.

It was all hers.

It took forever for her eyes to dry, but when they did, or when she felt she could see without blurry lines, she pulled herself out of the old car and onto solid earth. When she reached the kitchen it was to an empty room, save her ice cream on the wooden desk. She pulled herself up onto the chair grabbed the spoon and started digging.

Four spoons in, silver utensil still in her mouth, there was knocking on the door. As any curious five year old girl would, Charlotte shook her head to clear it of the wet remains of tears, stroked a hand over her entire face, forcing the dry patches away, and angled her body and head over the edge of her seat, around the corner of the desk and towards the front door.

She couldn’t see much. But she could hear it all. “John.”

“Bobby,” a nervous sigh, “can you take care of them for a couple of days?”

A pause. She could swear the cogs in Bobby’s brain, working out space, sleeping arrangements, day plans, meal plans, were as loud as rush hour traffic right outside your front door. “Sure.”

“I owe you.”

“Damn straight.”

“Boys!”

 _Boys?_ Her brows furrowed deep between her eyes. Boys. More than one. Tonight, the night after that and maybe even the night after that, she had to share Bobby with at least two other people. She enjoyed her time with Bobby. The ice cream. Late night ‘scary’ films that her Dad had told her were for adults. _Pfft_. But most of all he showed her the cars. It was interesting. Someone telling her information, even letting her tighten the nuts and screws now and again. She knew he would fix her shabby job when she was asleep or busy doing something else, but he made her feel like she was wanted and helpful.

Then there were two boys, around her age, standing in the entrance to the kitchen. Staring. At her. The older looking boy with slightly narrowed sharp green eyes, his frame stiff. Protective and suspicious. Her Dad had pulled the same look countless times when old _ladies_ had talked nicely to her. The other boy blinked up with curious wide brown eyed wonder.

Everything snapped after a moment when the younger one bounced on the balls of his feet to stand next to the chair she was on. “I’m Sammy. I’m four. That’s my big brother Dean. He’s eight.”

Charlotte’s eyes travelled from Sammy to Dean and back again. “I’m Charlotte.” Then the boy stood there, awkwardly, staring at her, the ice cream, his brother, ice cream. _Mine._ Eyes narrowed at his pleading puppy eyes. _You can’t have it. Mine. Bobby got it for me. Me. Mine. No. Nuh uh. No way._ “You want some ice cream?” _Curses._

“Chocolate?”

She shook blonde hair. “Strawberry.”

Brown eyes were turned upon green ones. “Dean likes Strawberry.” Back to her so fast it was a shock his neck didn’t crack from whiplash. “Can he have some too?”

Then she met his eyes. He hadn’t spoken a word. Hadn’t said hi. Nothing. He was staring too. Not at the ice cream or Sammy but her. Judging. Waging. Deciding. Head titled to one side ever so slightly. Eyes still narrowed just that miniscule bit in the corners. It was making her uncomfortable. Ready to cry. Again.

She jumped down next to Sammy and stepped in front of Dean. Inches apart. She was the shorter of all three of them and she had to glare _up_ at him. “What?”

It took a moment for the boy to register that she wasn’t happy. Today was not the day to be getting on the sore and raw nerves of the five year old girl who wasn’t ready to deal with anything too far away from eating ice cream and watching Bobby work. “Nothing.”

“Stop staring.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Were too.”

Dean just narrowed his eyes. They stared. After a moment he huffed a breath, turned his head to stare at the wall and muttered, “Whatever.”

She stuck her tongue out, turned on him and stopped in front of Sammy. “Wanna see something cool?”

His eyes sought Dean’s, who rolled his eyes, nodded and dumped their bags by the desk in the kitchen. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

She showed him the car she fell in love with since she first arrived. Showed him the blanket she stashed on her second visit, in case she wanted to be alone, outside and alone. Showed him the horn that still worked and the large steering wheel that twisted freely with no restraint. Told him it was hers and that one day “I’m gonna fix her up real pretty. And she’ll be mine. Still blue. Not pink. Pinks rubbish for rubbish people.”

“Our Dad’s car is cooler.”

Dean’s words killed her mood. Nobody’s car was better than hers. Not even _her_ Dad’s. “Nuh uh.”

“Yeah huh,” he nodded, arms folded and eyes glaring over the rusted metal she and Sammy were sat in. “Sammy agrees don’t you?” Eyes snapped to the youngest.

He stared from one older child to the other and back to Charlotte. A shrug. “Sorry.”

Charlotte folded her arms and glared. Now she hated Dean. Hated the smirk he wore. The attitude of _“I’m right you’re wrong. Deal with it. Don’t question it.”_

“I’m gonna fix it up and it’ll be better than your Dad’s.”

Now his brows were raised, corner of his mouth tugged into his mouth. A smirk was coming. “I bet you _you_ can’t fix this.”

“Can too.”

“All on your own?”

“Yep!” She smirked up at him, tongue out and eyes closed in self-satisfaction.

Silence passed between them for several seconds before Dean spoke. “I dare you to do it.” Her tongue fell limp, her eyes opened again and she stared at him. The smirk was wide now. “I dare you to do it before I have my own car.”

“Deal!” She didn’t need to think about it. Didn’t want to. It was a challenge. From him. A stranger. Who’d walked into her life like she was the intruder. This was her chance to stick it to him.

Minutes of chatting idly passed before Bobby called for their attention. Food was ready for the night. As she followed the boys into the kitchen she realised she knew nothing about cars and fixing them. “Damn it!”

“Language Charlotte.”

She ducked her head, shoulders hunched, “Sorry Bobby.” She took her seat opposite Dean, Sam on her right. On her sixth mouthful she realised. She wouldn’t see Dean after these next few days. The deal didn’t matter. She didn’t have to fix it. Didn’t have to talk to him once she was picked up or they were picked up first.

How wrong she was.


	2. 1990 - August

_Minnesota - Fairmont_

At the tender age of 8 Charlotte knew the routine better then she knew her 8 times tables. If her Dad hadn’t returned after three days she was to phone Bobby. Of course she knew his number off by heart. It was the one thing her Dad made sure she knew.

So she stood in the phone booth at some back water motel, reaching on tiptoes for the buttons. When Bobby asked who it was she simply said, “Dad’s not back Uncle Bobby.”

There was a sigh on the other end of the line that she guessed was from how late it was. She didn’t want to ring the man first thing in case her Dad would be back. Or in case he came back to find her on the phone in the afternoon. Even then he had come back in the last hours of the night before. But half eleven was still a time to begin to worry. “Where are you kiddo?”

Her eyes peered at the name on the phone booth, mind working to spell it out. “Mine- ne- so- tar?”

“Minnesota.” She could hear the man moving on the other end of the line. “What motel and room number?”

The neon lighting was easier to decipher, “Sun rise and five.”

There was another sigh. “Pack your bag kiddo. I’m on my way.”

“Bye Uncle Bobby!” She skipped back to her room and did as she was told. She packed her single bag. The first ten minutes were spent trawling the room for her clothes to throw them into her small luggage bag. The next ten minutes were spent finding everything else she owned and putting them into the case. A yawn escaped her and she shook it loose. She needed to pack and wait for Bobby. Ten minutes later and she was zipping her bag up, still trying to lose the yawns that were following her.

There was a chair by the window and she put herself in that, the lights off (as instructed by her Dad) and the curtains slightly open. She perched on her knees with her back straight and her arms over the back of the chair. Watching. Waiting.

Bobby was taking _forever_.

She yawned, felt her knees become sore and decided to lie on her bed and wait. Blue eyes fixed themselves on the ceiling, trying to make patterns out of the marks on it. _That could be a dog, that a strawberry._ Before she could stop it darkness closed in and she fell into a slumber.

The next time she awoke it was to Bobby pulling up outside of his own house. It was light out now and the man had just turned the engine off. He looked down at her curled on the chair and she swore she could see the old man smile. “Morning sleeping beauty."

A yawn. “What time is it?”  
  
“Just after twelve. Come on.” He jumped out and grabbed her bag from the back of the truck. She jumped out, rubbing her eyes, and followed him into the house. The TV was already on and she could hear voices. Two boyish voices. Now she was waking up. “I hope you boys have had breakfast.”

“Yes Sir,” a voice replied, footsteps following the noise into the kitchen.

Charlotte eyed the boy and swore he looked familiar. The boy was looking at her in the same way. It was the eyes that she remembered. Those sharp green ones that she hated when she first saw them. “Dean?”

He was taller. But so was she. Not as tall but still, she was taller. “Charlotte?”

“Who wants dinner?” Bobby asked, Charlotte’s bag already placed underneath the kitchen desk.

Sam entered then and smiled up at Bobby, “Yes Uncles Bobby!” Then his brown eyes found Charlotte’s. He didn’t forget her, or seemed to see the resemblance, or heard Dean. Either way, she smiled when he said her name, “Charlotte? You’re back.”

“So are you.”

“Our Dad’s busy being a superhero! Isn’t he Dean?”

Dean looked to Sam with a tight smile and Charlotte could sense something in the air. “He sure is Sammy. Come on, let’s go watch another film.”

“Oh,” she followed in their footsteps back to the living room. “What are you watching?”

“Terminator,” Dean said. Nothing more, just followed Sam to the only couch in the room and sat on the other end.

Charlotte stood in the doorway, eyes looking to the couch, the TV and back to the two boys. Sam had his eyes fixed on her whilst Deans were fixed on the TV. “Can I watch?”

Sam nodded eagerly and scooted closer to the arm, “You can come sit next to me.”

She jumped up and scooted herself between the two boys. Dean’s words made her glare at him, “This might be too scary for little girls.”

“I’m not a little girl.”

“Are too.”

“Uh uh.”

“Uh huh."

“You’re just being mean cause I’m a girl.”  
  
“Yeah Dean,” Sam added, leaning forward so that he could look at his brother. “Stop being mean.”

Charlotte stuck her tongue out to Dean in triumph and settled herself back into the couch. Dean looked a little miffed but she didn’t care. She won this time. About twenty minutes later Bobby brought in two plates of sliced pizza and placed them on the boy’s laps. “Share it out, now” his eyes turned to the TV. “Once this is over we’re gonna enjoy the weather and go to the park. Alright?”

Both her and Sam cheered whilst Dean nodded and took a slice of pepperoni pizza. Sam had cheese and Charlotte took one from each, slapped them together like a sandwich and took a bite. Both turned to look at her and she shrugged her shoulders around a mouthful. “What?”

“You’re weird,” Dean said.

She glared at him again and took another bite with force. “So.” She swallowed and kept her glare on him. “You’re weird too.”

“Not as weird as you.” His smirk as he took a bite made her glare more but she slumped in her seat and just carried on eating. The plates were emptied and cleaned and Bobby was rounding them up, getting shoes on and laces tied up. Seconds later they were squished into his truck. Minutes later they were on the park. Her and Sam had ran straight for the climbing frame whilst Dean walked over to the swing set, eyes watching the pair.

Bobby sat himself on a bench, his eyes loitering over everybody in the park for a few seconds before he forced the paranoia away.

After several minutes of watching the older boy gently swing back and forth Bobby moved to his truck and pulled out the gloves and baseball he kept in there. He tossed one glove to the older boy and nodded his head to a clearing. At Dean’s wide eyes glance towards Sammy he waved him off, “Sam’ll be fine kiddo. And he’s not alone. Come on.”

Charlotte reached the top of the frame after Sam and pouted. She didn’t like losing. But he was taller and had an advantage. She hated being small. “Why are you guys with Bobby?”

“What?” She repeated her question and watched as the boy ticked it over in his mind. He shrugged and ducked his gaze, “Dad’s busy saving people. He said it’s safer for us to be here.”

Charlotte nodded and worked her way across the top of the frame to sit next to him. “My Dad’s saving people too.”

“Do you think they know each other?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. But my Dad says there’s a lot of people out there who save other people.”

“Our Dad says we can’t trust everybody. But we can trust Bobby.”

She nodded in agreement. “Bobby’s cool.”

“He is.”

There was silence for a few seconds before Sam turned to her with a grin, “Race you to the monkey bars.”

“You’re on,” she said, already working her way back down the frame.


	3. 1991 – April

_South Dakota - Sioux Falls_

Charlotte had been enjoying the children’s channel when an intrusive knock appeared at the door. It was back to back running of programmes and it was the best way to kill time. She’d wanted to help Bobby with the phone calls he had to take but he’d waved her away with a tub of strawberry ice cream and the TV remote.

Then the boys appeared. Sam and Dean.

She wanted to frown at the intrusion, the late intrusion at that. But something about being able to talk to kids who were in a similar position to you, a parent or two who couldn’t have them around for their safety. Well, it was nice. Comforting. And for a few days she felt like a normal kid. Minus the parent thing. But still-

She waved at them and shuffled in her seat so that Sam sat next to her. Dean slumped to sit on Sam’s other end. The nine year old girl didn’t miss the miserable look to his face. After Sam’s questions of what’s on TV? What else is on? Can I look? She passed him the controller and leaned past him to offer Dean her ice cream. “You can have some.”

The man raised his brows in surprise and declined. Charlotte frowned back and shoved back at him. Dean sighed and took the tub. “Thanks.”

She smiled at him and leaned back in her seat. The cartoon Sam put on was a repeat and Charlotte decided to ask Bobby the question that had been plaguing her mind. She got down, ignored the look Sam and Dean gave her and stood in the door of the kitchen. Bobby was on the phone to someone, yelling about calling superiors, doing their job, and hung up with a sigh. “What is it Charlotte?”

“When’s my Dad coming back?”

Bobby sighed again and Charlotte deflated. It was getting late and the man hadn’t even called as he’d promised. “I’m sorry girl but I don’t think he’s going to make it.”

She physically deflated and ducked her head. “Okay.”

“Oh sweetie,” Bobby said and he knelt down, “Come here.” The girl flung herself around his neck and sobbed. She squeezed his neck as the tears got heavier and Bobby rubbed soothing circles against her back.

She hated it. Hater her Dad. Hated his job. Hated the hunting. The going and coming. The not staying. Hated everything about it. And now? Now she- She cried harder at the thought that her very own Dad had forgotten what today was. Had forgotten to call and just say Happy Birthday. She hated it. And it hurt her chest to cry but she wanted to cry. She hated him. He’d done the same thing last year and she was certain the same thing was going to happen next year. “Uncle Bobby? Charlotte?”

Dean’s words cut through her sobs like a hand grenade and Charlotte dropped herself from Bobby to hold onto his waist as he stood. “Yeah Dean?”

There were light footsteps and Charlotte pushed her face into Bobby’s side, not wanting to be seen looking like a mess. But Bobby pulled himself away and pushed her towards him. The ice cream was in her vision and she looked up in surprise to see Dean holding the ice cream back out to her. “You can have it back if, if it helps."

She stared at the tub for a few more seconds before she looked up to Bobby, to the slight smile he held, and back to Dean’s panicked expression. After another second she shook her head, wiped her eyes and turned to the back door. “I don’t want it.” Her car was her sanctuary and she sat on her knees her arms on the steering wheel and eyes fixed on the back door of the house. Nobody was allowed to invade her space. Nobody was allowed to be near her.

She hated her Dad and didn’t want to hate anybody else. Well, she didn’t want to hate her Dad but he’d promised. And “Dad’s never broke promises” was her consensus. But she knew that she would yell and shout. She hated shouting and yelling. She didn’t like to be angry and didn’t want anybody, especially Dean, making her want to be angry. Every time he looked at her she felt like he was judging her, weighing her up and trying to stay away from her.

She hated him.

 _No_. She shook her head and sat with her legs underneath her but her arms in her lap. She didn’t hate Dean. Didn’t hate Sam. Didn’t hate Bobby. She didn’t want to hate her Dad.

Charlotte groaned and hit the steering wheel in frustration. To say today sucked was an understatement. It was the biggest suck ever. She hit the wheel again. Again. And again before she sat and folded her arms with a “Hmph.”

Then Bobby was shouting for her and she groaned, wiped her eyes again and arrived to Sam hugging her. “Don’t cry.”

She rolled her eyes and hugged the eight year old back. “I’m fine.”

“Come on now,” Bobby said, “Time to get ready for bed.”

“But Bobby!” Sam complained. “It’s early!”

“One more movie!” Charlotte asked.

Dean looked up at the man with a shrug and Bobby sighed before he nodded to the living room. “Go on then. Charlotte picks.”

“Yay!” She skipped to the couch, snatched the remote and flicked through the channels until _Back to the Future_ showed itself. “I like this one.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen it,” Sammy said.

Dean scoffed and turned to Sam from his seat from before. “Of course you have Sammy. It was on TV in Michigan.” The eight year old shrugged his shoulders and Dean waved him off. “You’ll like it. Trust me.”

Bobby brought them drinks and even a few late night snacks before he pulled down a few books from the shelves behind them to get some work done. When the movie was over Sammy was asleep and Charlotte wasn’t too far behind. Dean was doing his best to hide a yawn and Bobby turned the TV off. “Right kids, bed time.”

“Awww,” Charlotte said before a yawn interrupted her speech. “I don’t wanna.

“Tough kiddo. Come on.”

Dean gently shook his brother and the little boy stirred. “Time for bed Sammy.”

“Okay,” the boy replied sleepily before he moved up the stairs.

All three trudged up the stairs to the only spare bedroom Bobby had. “Shotgun!” Charlotte shouted as she ran to her pyjamas, bunched them in her hands and ran back down the hall into the bathroom.

“Awww!” Sammy moaned.

“Don’t worry Sammy. We can get changed in here.”

“But I need to brush my teeth.”

“She won’t be long,” Bobby reassured the boy before he made his way out of the room to give the boys some privacy. He waited in the corridor, listening to the three kids get ready.

Charlotte emerged in a shirt and shorts with a pile of clothes scrunched up in her hands. “Ready!” she told him.

“What’ve I said about folding your clothes?”

The nine year old dropped her clothes, knelt down and started to fold them there and then. Before Bobby knew it there was a very roughly folded set of clothes in her hands. “Done.” She was beaming and Bobby just shook his head.

“My turn!” Sammy said as he whizzed past her to the bathroom.

Charlotte skipped back to the bedroom and dumped her clothes on top of her bag, grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste and perched herself on the bed whilst she waited. She watched as Dean folded both his and Sammy’s clothes up into presentable piles before shoving them into the bottom of a bag. Charlotte went next to the bathroom to do her teeth and Sam was already in bed by the time she got back. Dean pushed past her and she put her stuff away, grabbed her favourite teddy bear and climbed into bed next to Sam.

Whilst Bobby only had one spare bed it was still big enough to fit all three children in. Just. And the order it went in was Dean closest to the door, Charlotte in the middle and Sam nearest to the window because he liked the breeze at night.

The first night any of them had to sleep in the bed together had been awkward. Two boys sleeping in the same bed as a girl that neither knew. Now? Well, they hadn’t met too many times but they knew each other enough to be mildly comfortable. It was no secret that Dean tried not to touch her at all. Which was fine by her. She didn’t want to touch him either.

Dean came back in pyjamas, propped the window open ever so slightly and climbed into bed on the other side. “Goodnight,” Bobby told them.

“Goodnight Bobby,” all three of them replied.

“Remember, I’m just down the hall. If you kids need anything just shout.”

“Yeah,” “Sure,” and “Okay,” greeted the man before he shut off the light and closed the door. In the darkness the children shuffled, finding a comfortable spot. Sam turned to face the window, Dean to face the door and Charlotte had a habit of sleeping with back on Sam’s. And the boy didn’t complain.

Soon Sam’s snoring could be heard and Charlotte shuffled slightly against the boy. The action had its desired effect as the boys snoring stopped. Momentarily. Then it started again and she pushed her head into her pillow. After several minutes she shuffled, turned her back to Dean and closed her eyes.

Then she heard him shuffle. Then silence but for Sammy’s snoring. Minutes dragged and Charlotte still wasn’t comfortable. She rolled over, pushed her back against Sammy’s and settled down. Then she opened her eyes. Dean stared at her in the dark and she couldn’t help but to stare back. In her tired haze she knew the man was thinking. Could see in the very dim light that he was frowning at least. “Can’t sleep?” she asked.

“Happy Birthday.” The words were a surprise. She didn’t expect him to know when her birthday was, let alone say it.

“What?”

“I said, Happy Birthday.”

“Oh.” A pause. “Thank you.”

Then he rolled over and Charlotte was left to sleep, a smile on her face. Somebody had said it and suddenly, the day didn’t seem so bad.


	4. 1993 - October

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

Charlotte jumped out of the car before it had stopped and stood in front of the Impala. Four sets of eyes set themselves on her and her Dad. She penetrated the awkward silence with, “It’s cool. Is it yours?”

The old man she hadn’t seen before nodded with a slight frown. “Yeah.” Then his eyes flicked to her dad and Charlotte waved to Sammy and Dean. Both boys offered her a meek wave. “And you are?”

“Peter Dixon. You must be John Winchester.”

Charlotte let her eyes run over John. He was older then her Dad. At least that was her opinion. But he also had a weird look about him. She couldn’t place it but it made her a little uneasy. But when he laughed every feature softened itself up to the world. “Yeah,” his eyes briefly glanced to her and she averted her gaze to the Impala. Okay Dean had a point. It _was_ a cool car. She stroked a hand along the black edges and smiled at her reflection. “The boys have told me about a Charlotte?”

She flicked her eyes back up and found the man looking at her with another look she couldn’t quite place. It was another weird look that she was working on figuring out. “Maybe,” she replied with a shrug. 

“Why don’t we get the kids inside,” her Dad said and Charlotte followed the boys inside. 

She made sure to hug Bobby on the way. “Hey kiddo,” he said. “You’re growing now ain’t you.” 

Charlotte nodded. “Yep. I’m going to be as tall as my Dad one day.”

“No you’re not.”

Dean. Jiving her. Mocking her. She narrowed her eyes and folded her arms. “I’m almost as tall as you.”

“So? Sammy’s taller then you.”

Charlotte turned her eyes to a sheepish Sammy and shrugged. “You’re small too.”

“No I’m not.”

“Dean kissed a girl,” Sam said pulling a face and Charlotte laughed at his look.

“Kids,” John said as he stood in the doorway to the living room. “The adults are going to talk so we need you to be quiet and not disturb us okay?”

“Yes Sir,” Dean replied and Charlotte turned her eyes up at him in a frown. He waited until his Dad was gone before turning to Charlotte with a frown of his own. “What?”

“Why’d you call him Sir?”

Dean shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “So? Does it matter?

“But he’s your Dad.” Dean sighed then and rolled his eyes. Charlotte noticed the big dirty brown jacket he wore and narrowed her eyes at it. Dean narrowed his eyes back and Charlotte turned to see Sammy being quieter than usual. “I’m going to go find parts for my car.”

Dean rolled his eyes again. “You don’t have a car.” 

Charlotte turned to Sammy and said, “Do you want to come with me?” There was a look that passed over her head and Sam ducked his head after a few seconds. Charlotte could feel herself getting angrier at Dean. He was being mean. And she didn’t like mean people. She turned, stood toe to toe with him and glared up at him. “Can you stop being a mean old jerk face for five minutes you damn-” she tailed off at the end, but folded her arms over her chest defiantly. 

Dean narrowed his eyes at her and bent his head to get closer to her level. “I’m sorry if I’m not a little kid anymore with immature ideas.”

“We’re your friends.” 

“I don’t even know you.”

“So?” 

Dean rolled his eyes and stepped away from her. “No offense Charlotte but I’m older then you. I have older friends. Looking after you kids is fun and all but you know, I can’t play those kids games anymore. I can’t be doing kid things anymore.” 

“Suddenly he’s in high school and he thinks he runs the world?” Charlotte rolled her eyes and didn’t miss the slight smile that curled Sam’s lips. “Being nice doesn’t cost you Dean.” 

“I am being nice.” 

“Guys?” Sam interrupted. “Can you stop fighting?” 

“Tell him to stop being some hormonal brat with a mop shoved up his ass.” 

“Excuse me?” Dean said, turning surprised eyes on Charlotte. 

“You heard.” 

“You know what,” Dean stepped closer to her, a glare on his face. “If anyone’s the brat it’s you. You only have to cry and you get what you want.”

Her mouth dropped open at that and Dean wore a smirk of triumph. And she really wanted to wipe that off his face. As best as she could she balled her fist up and brought it up to land on his chest. It wasn’t the best punch in the world but it was enough of a shock to make Dean stumble back. 

“Please,” Sam said. “Stop it.” 

“You’re so uptight and so mean, so stupid and-” she bailed on the last words as Sam stood between them.

He looked from brother to friend, back, and back again before he said defiantly, “Both of you stop it. Not another word. Either of you.” 

“He started it,” she muttered. 

“No,” Sam said. “No more. Now we’re going to sit down and pretend everything’s fine. 

Charlotte and Dean glared at each other again for a few more seconds before the adults appeared in the doorway. “What’s going on here?” Peter asked, his eyes on his own daughter. 

John looked to Dean, to Sam and back to Dean. “Everything okay?” 

They shared a look before mumbling, “Yes Sir.” “Fine.”

Peter waved his daughter to the other side of the room and knelt down to her level. “Me and John are going to tackle this one together.”

When she answered her voice was low and her eyes were fixed on the floor. “How long for?” 

“A couple of days. Look, honey, look at me.” She lifted her eyes. “You sure everything’s okay?” she found her eyes travelling to Dean who glared at her once more before turning back to his own father. The eleven year old nodded and Peter nodded back. “Okay. I promise to call when we’re on our way back. You be careful, don’t hurt yourself and stay out of trouble now. Okay?” 

“Yes Dad.”

He smiled at her and opened his arms. She lunged into him and squeezed his neck tight. For a brief second she opened her eyes to see Dean look a little down in her direction. She let go and smiled at her Dad. “See you around kid,” he said. 

He left then and Charlotte watched the boys look after their own father a little sad. Bobby closed the door and turned to the three of them. “Right, which one of you is gonna tell me what happened?” 

And the glaring, awkward glances, staring, looking away were back. “Nothing,” Dean muttered. 

Bobby turned his eyes to Charlotte who shrugged. “What? Nothing.” 

“Uh huh,” the man said. Then he turned his eyes to Sam. “Sam? Are you going to tell me what happened?” 

Both Charlotte and Dean turned their eyes to the youngest boy in the room, waiting, to see what he would say. The boy looked between the two of them then towards Bobby and shrugged his shoulders. “They were arguing and Charlotte punched him.”

“It was barely a punch." 

“You still punched me.” 

“And I’ll do it again.” 

“That’s enough!” All eyes snapped up to the old man with shock. They’d never really heard him shout like that. Then all heads hung themselves to stare at the floor. “Sam, let me talk to Dean and Charlotte alone.” 

“Okay.” He moved away, shoulders slumped and hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. 

Bobby waved the other two into the kitchen and they delivered each other a glare before Bobby turned and put his hands on his hips. “What were you two arguing about? And I want the truth.” 

Both children looked at each other before Dean sighed and lifted his head, “We were talking and then she started calling me names.” 

The girl stared at the fourteen year old boy. “Cause you were being mean. I was asking questions and you were being mean about it.” In a terrible interpretation of his voice she continued on, “You don’t have a car.” “Immature kids and immature games.” “You’re a brat.” 

Dean scoffed and turn annoyed eyes on her. “Oh please,” he did his own interpretation of her voice, “Stop being some hormonal brat with a mop shoved up his ass.” 

Charlotte ducked her head as Bobby snapped his eyes on her. “Charlotte Maria Dixon.” She rolled her eyes at the use of her full name. “Where in the hell did you pick up that kind of language?” She pointed a thumb in Dean’s direction and the teenage boy jumped. “Dean?”

Green eyes were on the older man, the girl and back. “What? No I- I haven’t-” Then there was a realisation that hit the front of his mind like a derailed train. “Shit.”

“Language!” 

Dean ducked his head. “Sorry.”

“Right,” Bobby said after several seconds of silence. “Both of you are gonna apologise to each other and you ain’t gonna argue anymore. You hear me?”

“Yes Bobby,” they both replied. 

Silence. “I’m waiting,” he reminded them.

The two children turned towards each other, glared at each other and mumbled “Sorry,” in as low a voice as possible. Bobby made a point of saying he didn’t hear them and both of them sighed. Dean apologised first next. “I’m sorry alright?” 

“Me too.”

“Charlotte.” 

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry.” 

“Good. Now shake.” They looked up at the man again and he only glared down at them. They both caved under his gaze, held a hand out each, took the other and shook it. “See, now that wasn’t so hard.”

Dean grunted, retook his hand and stuffed it into his jacket. “Can I go now?”

Bobby nodded and the boy rushed out of the room. Charlotte looked up at him and asked, “Can I go look for parts for my car?” 

He quirked a brow at that. “Do you know what you’re looking for?”

She nodded, grin in place. “A new steering wheel and new mirrors. At least for now.”

Bobby sighed and nodded his head towards the yard. “Go on.” Once she was gone he sighed and sat down at the desk he kept in the kitchen. Kids. He sighed at the thought of the age they were getting to. There was going to be a lot more arguing from all three in their near future. And he would be the one to deal with. “God help me,” he muttered.


	5. 1993 - November

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls  
_

Sam and Dean were already there. She could tell because John was leaving the house as they pulled up. Since their Dad’s had last met they’d stayed in contact quite a lot. Which meant on occasion she’d heard from Sammy. It was always just a ‘hi’ from Dean, but a full blown conversation from Sammy which his Dad always had to interrupt.

But this time it was a hunt together.

So she got a few days with the boys. When she entered neither of them were in sight and she looked to Bobby. “Where are they?”

The man sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “Sam’s not feeling too great and Dean’s out back. Not feeling too great either.”

“Can I go talk to them?”

Bobby shrugged. “If you want.”

Charlotte stepped past him towards the back of the house. “I’m gonna go bug Dean!”

“Just don’t fight!”

When she stepped out into the damp air she stopped and let her eyes brush along every side of every car in sight. His normal head of brown/blonde hair was nowhere in sight. So she turned and stepped into the first line of cars. Another scan revealed nothing. “Deeeeaaan!” She waited. Heard nothing. Shouted again. “Deeeaaan!”

There was a bump of metal and she followed the sound at a run. “Deeeaaaan!” There was a shuffle of feet and she fell to the floor, eyes scanning underneath the cars. There. Black boots and jeans. She settled herself in a casual walk and sauntered around the corner. “Found you.”

He looked at her briefly before turning his eyes back to the stretch of land behind the salvage yard. Dean was leaning against some old hunk of junk and Charlotte sat herself atop the hood of it. “Go away,” he muttered.

“Nope.” And she poked him. In the arm. Once. Twice. Three times then pulled her finger away to lean forward on the hood. “What’s wrong with you and Sammy?”

Dean didn’t look at her again. Just frowned at the horizon with his hands in his pockets. “Nothing.”

“Liar.”

He angled his head slightly away from her and Charlotte frowned. Even Dean wasn’t this evasive. _Well_ , she ignored the last time they’d been together and the argument that had devolved. “Go away.” And he pushed away from the metal to move away from her himself. He propped himself two cars down and Charlotte rolled her eyes.

“Dean!”

“I mean it!” He shouted back and she jumped off the hood and stood in front of him. She was growing but she still hadn’t caught up him. “Go away.”

He looked over her but she stamped a foot down onto one of his and he snapped his eyes down. “What the hell is going on?” she said.

The glare he had been giving her dissolved into a frown before he took one step away and sighed. “Why do you care?”

Charlotte was tempted to stamp on his other foot but chose not to. “Because you two are the only kids I know in the world who know about monsters and hunting.”

“Sammy didn’t.”

Any other thoughts stopped and she stared up at him, her face blank. “What?”

Dean looked at her then and sighed, scratching the back of his head with one hand. “He didn’t know until last week. Dad told him and he wishes he didn’t know. Or that he was in another family.”

“He didn’t know.” She repeated.

Dean shook his head. “He didn’t know.” After several seconds Dean cleared his throat and shoved his hands deep into the leather jacket. “Get lost,” he said after a moment. “I don’t want to be disturbed by an immature kid anymore.” His tone was different, lighter then the last time he’d said something of the sort and she nodded. There was a smile begging to be let free on her mouth but she denied the request .

She made a point to move past Dean to get back to the house, shoving her body into his in a gentle shove. “Whatever.” His words were repeated back at him and she didn’t miss the small smile that started. She skipped back to the house and waved at Bobby on her way with a smile. Then she was gone and up the stairs. The two people in the world who made her feel normal could not be having an off day. Not on her watch.

The stairs creaked under her steps and she jumped the last step. At least Dean was back on talking terms with her. Kind of. Sort of. For now at least. She stopped outside of the spare bedroom and knocked. “Go away,” greeted her and she raised her brows at the wooden door. The boys were brothers indeed.

“Nope,” she said with the same response she’d had with Dean and pushed the door open, closing it behind her. Sam was stretched across his stomach across the bed. A pillow was stuffed underneath his head, squashed between his chest and arms that were tightly wrapped around him. “What are you doing?”

Sam’s brown eyes glanced at her before he shuffled his stretched out position the other way. “Go away.”

“You two definitely are brothers.” She jumped onto the bed and fell next to the boy. “Dean told me.”

That made him look up at, questioning the truth to her answer. “You’re lying.”

She bounced as she moved to put her legs over the side of the bed and lie back, arms behind her head. “Nope. We talked. No arguing. And he said you didn’t know about the monsters and stuff.”

“You did?”

Charlotte nodded before realising he wouldn’t be able to see her. “Yep. For like, well, forever. Well, since my Mum died.”

The bed moved and Sam’s head appeared as he sat up, pillow still clutched to his chest. “Erm, how did she die? If you don’t mind.”

She shook her head and sat up with a shrug. “He said it was a creature that moves from place to place, kinda like a demon but not a demon.”

They were now sat cross legged facing each other. Seconds stretched the silence into minutes before Sam spoke again, eyes fixed on the bed space between them. “My Dad said a demon killed my Mom.” Charlotte nodded and listened as he carried on. “When I was nine I told him there was a monster in my closet and he gave me a gun.”

She held up a hand, scrambled off the bed and moved to her bag. From out of it she pulled a silver knife and a small gun herself. “Salt rock bullets for ghosts and demons. Silver for werewolves, shifters and a bunch of other things.”

Sam was silent as she put them back in their place and scrambled back onto the bed to lie on her back again. Her hands were behind her head and her legs dangled over the edge as she kicked them forward and back. “So you’re fine with everything?”

That made her interested. She twisted her eyes from the ceiling to his curious brown ones and shrugged. “What do you mean?”

He scoffed and shook his head. “The monsters. Knowing that your Dad is out there hunting them. Knowing that they exist. You’re cool with it all?”

Charlotte shrugged. “Dad saves people who are in trouble. And I just accept it as something that happens.”

Now Sam was frowning. “But you’re cool with the idea of there being ghosts and other things?”

“Well no. I’m not. I’d be cool if they didn’t exist. But they do. So I accept it.”

Sam’s frown was turning into a half smirk and he said, “You’re weird. You know that right.”

She rolled her eyes and sat up, jumped off the bed and turned to face him. “You’re weird. I’m gonna go bug Dean. Wanna help?”

“He’ll shout.”

She shrugged and turned to open the door. “Your loss!” And she was out.


	6. 1994 - March

_Arizona – Wickenburg  
_

Charlotte’s Dad had met up with Sam and Dean’s Dad in Arizona. They’d both just happen to have been passing through after having caught wind of what they thought was a Rakshasa. To keep the kids happy they had been put into the Winchester’s lodgings for the next few days whilst John and Peter were out.

Sam was busy doing some school work whilst Dean was preparing food. She sat with her eyes on the TV. Bored. “Can we not go out? For like five minutes?”

Dean’s voice was strong, “No. You heard them. We stay until we’re told otherwise.”

She sighed loudly and flopped back onto the bed she’d occupied. “I’m bored.”

“Deal with it.”

“Saaaaammm,” she whined.

The youngest lifted his head to look at her from the other bed. “What?”

She rolled onto her stomach to face him, head propped up in hands and elbow on the edge of the bed. “I’m bored.”

He stared at her for a few seconds before he shrugged his shoulder. “Sorry.”

“What are you even doing?”

Sam ducked his head as he spoke, “School work.”

“Boring!” Charlotte dropped her arms over the side of the bed along with her head.

Silence stretched around the room for several minutes save for the moving of food, pans and pots in the kitchen of the motel room. Charlotte rolled onto her back, kicked her legs back and forth as she let her head fall back over the other edge to watch Sam work. These were the parts she hated the most.

Well, she hated being on the road all of the time. But this was the second worst part about it. The waiting. The sitting around and waiting. Bored. There was nothing to do and their parents had insisted that it was too dangerous to leave the crappy motel room. “I’m going for a walk!”

Dean had snapped his head over his shoulder as she jumped up. Sam’s eyes followed her, mouth open. “Shit,” Dean cursed quietly as he turned the pan off and turned to go after the girl that had already left. He pointed to Sam as he stalked across the room. “Stay there. Don’t answer the door.”

The door slammed after him and he snapped his eyes right then left and saw head of brown hair walking away. Catching up to her was no hard task and soon he was rounding the corner she had disappeared around. His hand went out, grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “Get back inside.”

She pulled on it but the older boy held his footing. “Deeeaaann! I want five minutes! Let go!”

“I don’t care. Get back inside.”

“But it’s boring inside.”

She was whining. She knew that. But she just wanted five minutes away from boys and away from men. Dean wasn’t seeing it and pulled on her arm harder. She pulled back and eventually his grip slipped and she fell to the floor. After a few seconds of shock from both parties Charlotte threw her back to the floor and lay there. Dean sighed, ran a hand over his face and growled, “Get up.”

“No.”

“Move it.”

“No.”

Then he was crouching over her and his face wasn’t nice or calm. It was twisted into slowly growing anger. “My Dad and your Dad put me in charge. That means I take care of you and Sam. I am not having you out from my watch free to be grabbed by whatever monster they’re hunting here. Or whatever other monsters are here as well. So get up. And get back inside.”

That seemed to make her pout with a frown. “But I’m bored.”

“Yeah? It saves being dead.”

She shoved him away from her and stood. “Can I at least buy a book? The store’s only there.” She pointed to the other side of the road and Dean shook his head. “Please? I won’t complain about being bored then!”

He sighed then shoved her shoulder forward. “Go. But I’m coming with you.”

She smiled up at him and started to walk, digging into the pocket of her jeans for some loose change. She had five bucks and fifteen cents. They made it across the road with no trouble and the bell over the door gave a jingle when they entered. Charlotte made a start for the small stand of books that sat in a corner of the store. Dean on the other hand perused the shelves, keeping the girl in the corner of his vision.

She’s managed to find a book and came to stop next to the fifteen year old babysitter. “I’m done.”

He pulled his eyes away from the peanut M&M’s and nodded to the till. “Go pay then.” And he stepped past her to look over some of the other articles in the store.

When she’d finished paying he opened the door for her and followed her across the empty road. As they reached the edge of the motel Charlotte stopped and turned. Dean almost didn’t stop before hitting her and frowned down at her. “What?”

For several seconds her eyes narrowed and she peered up at him carefully, book clutched to her chest. Then she beamed and held out a hand. “Thank you.”

He stared at the yellow plastic wrapping in her hands and stared at her, more surprised than anything else. “What?”

She rolled her eyes and stepped closer, the bag clearly stating the chocolate and peanut goodness that awaited him inside. “Thank you for letting me out of the room to buy a book. Take them.”

“Oh,” he took the package and nodded. “Thanks.” After a moment he put a hand on her shoulder and turned her around. “Move.” And the moment was gone. His sharp words were back and she was back to having to take orders.

They came back to find Sam removing another book from his bag. “More homework?”

Sam shrugged. “I like school.”

Charlotte eyed him up and shook her head with a smile. “Nerd.”

The comment was light and airy and Sam was shaking his own head, “Weirdo.”

“Alright,” Dean said. “Food’ll be five minutes. No more running out.” The last point was directed to Charlotte who ignored it, fell onto her stomach on the bed and opened her book. Food in fact was ten minutes and Dean was serving sausages with spaghetti and toast. He placed two plates on the tiny table in the room along with forks and knives. “Dig in before it gets cold.”

Then Dean was sitting with them eating his own food and soon all of the plates were gone. Sam and Charlotte washed up to make it fair on the older boy and once everything was put away they went back to their homework and book. Dean propped himself on a chair, feet up on the table and a newspaper in his own hands.

A comfortable silence enveloped the room for several minutes until Dean dropped the paper and turned the TV on. But everybody was busy and occupied.

By the time bed time came around the parents still weren’t back and Dean took it upon himself to tell the other two to get ready. “Shotgun!” Sam shouted and Charlotte moaned.

Then there was silence as she continued reading. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Dean staring at her, eyes drawn in and mouth pursed. She did her best to ignore it and continue reading. For several minutes she felt the silence swim into the side of awkward and was ready to open her mouth to ask him what he wanted when Sam came out. That broke the older boy’s concentration and Charlotte took that opportunity to close her book, grab her pyjamas, toothbrush and toothpaste and slink into the bathroom.

It had been agreed earlier that if the parents were late coming back or they weren’t coming back until the next day, then they kids should sleep in the same room. If they were going to be coming back late into the early hours of the morning then still, the kids should have one room whilst the parents took the other.

Unfortunately there was one double bed and one single bed. The single was the furthest away from the door and Sam had already taken that by the time Charlotte made her way out of the bathroom. Which meant she’d have to share the double with Dean.

She stopped the groan in her throat, dumped her stuff on top of her bag and crawled into bed. “Night kids.”  
“Night Dean,” they both replied, knowing he was going to stay up for a while.

And he did. He reread the paper in case he missed anything. Then picked up Charlotte’s book and started reading that. He had always stayed up late when it was just Sam and him to make sure his Dad had made it back, or to at least make sure his brother was asleep. And now he had a second kid to keep an eye on.

The minutes ticked by into two hours and Dean locked the door, did a quick sweep of the room and changed into a t-shirt and boxers. Then he climbed in next to the girl, hugging the edge of the bed. The bedside lamps were out and Dean watched the dark for several minutes before he drifted off into a slumber.

It was still dark when he felt a kick to his leg. His eyes opened with tiredness. He was kicked again and he snapped his eyes open. Then there was a hard brush of fingers against his arm. He frowned. Then there was a moaning and he turned his eyes right. In the dim darkness he could see her face scrunched up and she was the one that was kicking him.

He threw himself back onto the bed with a sigh and just lay there, listening to her. What was he supposed to do? Sam had had nightmares but that was his _brother_. Charlotte wasn’t. She kicked and feebly pushed his arm away from her and he sighed again. After a few more seconds he rolled over, propped himself up and gently shook her shoulder. “Charlotte,” he whispered. She was still whimpering and he shook her shoulder again. “Charlotte.”

The girl’s eyes snapped open, panicked in the dark and finally settled on his face. He smiled awkwardly down at her, hoping it was reassuring. “You were having a bad dream.”

There was a whimper from her and he watched her pull the cover up over her mouth. Then she was nodding and stuffing her head into the pillow. “Sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t worry,” he muttered and laid back down himself. “Just go back to sleep okay?”

He felt the cover move with her nod and closed his eyes. Several seconds passed before she shuffled and he almost jumped when she shuffled into his side, her nose brushing against the side of his arm. Then she settled and it wasn’t long before he heard her heavy breathing indicating she was sleeping.

Dean would be lying if he said he understood the girl and what went through her mind. He shook his head at her, rolled over away from her and closed his eyes once again.


	7. 1994 - June

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

Dean sat slumped against the door of a car, watching as Sam and Charlotte climbed the rusted cars. And sat atop them triumphant with the number they’d climbed. He was just making sure they didn’t fall or hurt themselves, or catch anything from the rust. 

Just watching them. 

The sun was beginning to set and they’d already been there six days. He was itching to move. To get to the next hunt and help his Dad. Then Bobby was at the door, calling them in. He watched Sam and Charlotte climb down, jumping the last car with a tumble from Sam. He followed the kids into the house, hands in the pockets of his jacket. 

Food was sitting and waiting for them. Pasta and sauce. Whilst Dean knew Bobby didn’t have the best cooking skills in the world, the man had enough to make a decent Pasta bake. Provided he followed the instructions. 

As they were nearing the end of their meal the door went and Bobby waved the kids down before he moved to answer it. Dean angled his head around the frame. He watched Bobby open the door to an injured looking John Winchester. His Dad stepped in and Dean frowned as the door closed with no Peter Dixon behind him. 

The pair had gone to hunt some sort of hellspawn over in Connecticut. Well, a series of hellspawns that had gathered and were causing havoc for a small town. 

Bobby pushed the man into the living room and Dean turned to his meal, suddenly uninterested. “Who was it?” Sam asked. 

The fifteen year old waved his brother away, “Just finish your tea Sammy.” Sam rolled his eyes but complied. Dean turned his head to Charlotte to see her looking at him strangely. “You too,” he muttered, forcing a forkful of pasta down his throat. He watched the girl frown but comply. If it was just his Dad that had made it back, as beat up as he looked, then Dean didn’t want to break the news to the kid first. 

He painstakingly finished his meal, stacked the plates and tried to stop them from moving past the door frame. But they were too fast and too curious. The teenager was forced to follow, dragging his feet, his eyes downcast and his hands stuffed into the far corners of his jacket pockets. Charlotte was gonna cry. He didn’t need to be a psychic to know it. 

“Are you okay?” Sam asked at the sight of his Dad. 

Bobby looked how Dean felt and the teen noticed the older man’s eyes on the young girl. Her face changing and he watched her eyes jump to the door, over John’s figure and back to the door. She went to the window, looked out and kept her gaze forward as she spoke. “Where’s my Dad?” 

Dean could swear the kid knew. There was a slight whimper in her voice, but she didn’t want to believe it. Hell no kid would want to believe that their Dad was dead. “Charlotte,” John started. 

Then she was holding onto the thin window ledge by her fingers, knees already gone and head against the wall. “He’s not dead. He’s not. He can’t be. He promised.” 

“Dad?” Sam asked and Dean tried to ease the lump away from his throat. 

Then there were sobs. Heart wrenching sobs that had Dean closing his eyes in pain. “No!” She shouted. “No! No! No! He’s not dead! He can’t be!” 

“I’m sorry,” John muttered but it was too late. She had already collapsed in a heap, head bent over her knees and arms on the floor. Her body shook as she sobbed and Dean was finding it hard to watch. 

John moved to place a gentle hand on her shoulder but it was a spark that shoved her to her feet and pushed him away. “Stay away from me!” And she was gone. Out the back door and into the salvage yard, tears falling in her steps. 

Sam looked to Dean, to their Dad, to Bobby and back to the door. Dean dropped his gaze, turned and followed the girl out of the back door. There was a brief look between him and Sam in which Dean told him with his eyes, “I’ve got this.” 

The night suddenly seemed colder and Dean pulled his jacket further around him. “Charlotte!” 

There was nothing for several seconds. Then he heard the sobbing. He followed the sound to find her sat, curled up in her car. He wrenched the door open and perched himself on the edge of the dirty old seats. “I’m sorry,” he said, eyes fixed on the floor kicking up dust around his feet. She didn’t move, didn’t say anything. Just sobbed harder. He hated it when chicks cried. Never mind a twelve year old. “Charlotte, I-” then he stopped. He couldn’t think of anything to say that would make it better. 

Hell nothing would. 

But he tried. With a sigh he pushed himself further into the small space, ducking his head and twisting it to look at her as he spoke. “I know it sucks. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost my Dad. But I am sorry. I’m sorry you did. I know nothing I say can make it better but,” he paused, mind furrowing with his eyes. Then he sighed and scratched the back of his head. “Come here,” he offered finally and he laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You know, I’m offering you a hug here. Once in a lifetime opportunity. If your refuse you’ll never know what a Dean Winchester hug is.” 

There was a slight hiccup in her crying before she shuffled, turned and wrapped her arms around his chest. He could feel tears making a patch on his shirt, but for now, he could deal with it. He hated it when chicks cried, would usually run away from it but Charlotte was different. Yeah they had their ups and downs. Yeah they’d mocked and prodded each other. But she was one of the few outside of family who he could talk about hunting with. Who understood some of the things he did. 

He simply held her. Awkward. Confused about what he should be doing to help further. But he patted her back and let her squeeze his chest tight and sob into his shirt. Minutes passed and he felt her shake against him. Dean looked down and frowned. Shorts and a t-shirt. With a roll of his eyes and biting back a sigh he removed her from him to take off his jacket and pull it over her. It was more than twice her size, hell it was big on him.

But at least it would keep her warm so she could cry til her hearts content. 

Charlotte shuffled her body to put her arms through the sleeves, pull the thing around her and attach herself to Dean’s chest again. The sobs were whimpers now. Just sniffles and Dean sat there, letting the soft breeze twist the end of his hairs into his eyes and out again. 

Yet he stayed there. Comforting her. 

Then there was a nuzzling of her head against his side and he looked down to see her eyes begin to close. He nudged her gently, “Hey. You’re not sleeping there.” 

“Comfy.” 

He gave a small quick and light chuckle. “Yeah? Well it’s kinda cold and you’ve got my jacket.” 

She only slumped further into him and pulled his jacket around her tighter. “Comfy.” 

“Come on,” he made a start to move but her arms around his waist squeezed, wanting him to stay where he was. Another chuckle. “Charlotte. Come on.” 

“Don’t wanna.” 

“Don’t make me carry you back.” 

She glared up at him through red puffy eyes and tear tracked cheeks. “You wouldn’t.” 

He winked and the essence of a smile tugged the corner of her mouth. “Oh I would princess.” 

Charlotte pulled back to punch his arm. “Don’t call me princess.” 

“Darling?” Another punch. “Sweetie?” Another punch. “Cutie pie.” That made her screw her face up and punch him twice. “Yeah I don’t like that too.” He tried to think of more words before he smirked down at her. “Babe?” That made her shout with disgust and she threw her punches at his arm again. “Okay! Okay!” He held his hands up and grabbed her fists. “I’ll stop.” She looked up at him, frown still in place and glared. He chuckled and climbed out of the car. He held a hand out and nodded his head to the house. “Come on. Let’s get inside where it’s warm.”

  
Charlotte was hesitant and he saw the worry in her eyes. Out here she could still believe her Dad was alive. Or at least the pain was a little easier. But inside? Where John was? The man who’d been able to walk away from it whilst hers had died? Yeah. He understood why she didn’t want to go inside. “I don’t wanna.”

 

She slumped back onto her knees and Dean simply looked from her to the house and back, trying to figure out how to deal with this. In the end he sighed and raised his eyebrows at her. “I will carry you.”

 

She crossed her arms and glared. “No!”

 

“Yeah.”

“No!”

“Right,” he reached in, turned her over and grabbed her underneath her shoulders and pulled her out. She was screaming with laughter as he dragged her out and let her feet hit the floor. She struggled against him and Dean grabbed her waist, pulled her up and scooped her up. She fumbled in his arms and he panicked as his grip on her almost fell. Then she was wrapping her arms around his neck and fussing. “Hold still princess!” 

She flailed her legs and Dean had to let go of them to hold her waist in order to not drop her and not have her drag him down. “No! Do not call me princess, Jerk face!”  
  
“Well that’s a little harsh.”

“Put me down!” She muttered with laughter. 

“Nope,” he said with a smirk as he half carried half hauled her back into Bobby’s house. He ignored everyone, bent to put her feet on the floor then grabbed her knees and hauled her over his shoulder. She screamed and he ignored the slapping and light punches she was delivering to his lower back. “Stop hitting or I’ll drop you.”  
  
“No! Don’t drop me! Put me down!” 

“Put you down?” He was halfway up the stairs and with one hand on the rail he pushed the arm holding her backwards just a little.  
  
“Noooo! No! No! No!” she screamed, grabbing his shirt and dragging herself back onto his shoulder. “No! Not like that!”

He carried her to the spare room, let her fall backwards onto the bed with laughter and stared at her triumphantly. “Told you,” and he winked. 

She giggled, got to her feet on the bed, yawned and jumped at his neck. He almost fell under the sudden weight but managed to steady himself as she hugged him. “Thank you Dean.” 

“No problem Princess.” She hit his shoulder and Dean chuckled. “Alright down boy,” again she hit him but she slipped to the floor and Dean watched another yawn take over her face. “Bed. Now.” 

She crawled into it, refusing to get changed and pulled his arm with her. “Can you stay? You make it better.” 

He sighed and relented. The last thing he wanted to do was let her cry herself to sleep. He got in behind her and felt her drag an arm over her body and clutch it tight to her chest. He sighed, let her get comfortable with his arm and decided to wait until she slept.

Before he knew it he was falling asleep too.


	8. 1994 - June part 2

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

At some point in the night she’d managed to trap an arm underneath her body. When he woke up the next morning he found it stuck underneath her back with her face pressed into his armpit. The jacket he’d given her was still wrapped around her, but awkwardly. It was bunched up in all of the corners and folded with awkward creases he wondered how she was still asleep. Dean tried to pull his arm free but she only sunk closer into his pit.

After several seconds he decided to pull his arm more forcefully. It stirred the girl enough to make her curl into his side now and he sighed. He just needed to go to the frigging bathroom. “Charlotte.” Nothing. “Charlotte.” More loudly. Still nothing. He tried it louder again, “Charlotte.” 

This time she stirred against him, making some kind of groaning noise. “I need to pee.” 

“Gross,” she pushed herself away from him, rolled off his arm and curled herself back up. Dean didn’t waste any time. He jumped from the bed and practically ran to the bathroom. It was a pleasant relief and he sighed with pleasure. He zipped up, washed his hands and came back to find Charlotte curled back up and looking sad. “Dean,” she muttered. “My Dad’s not coming back.” 

He sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “I know. I’m sorry.” 

She curled up a little further and Dean leaned his elbows on his knees. Then he noted that Sammy wasn’t with them. _He must’ve slept downstairs_. “I don’t wanna go downstairs.” 

He glanced at her, at the floor, the door, the ceiling, his hands then back to her. “I know you don’t want to. But you’ve got to.” 

Charlotte pulled his jacket closer around her and let the room sit in silence for several seconds. Then she sat up, threw his jacket off and back at him then jumped off the bed. “Fine.” 

Dean watched the tears begin again and sighed. “Charlotte.” 

She stopped, hand on the door handle and sniffled. “What?” She tried for strong. Tried for brave. But the sniffling ruined the image. 

He sighed again and ducked his head. “I’m not giving you another hug. You’ve had one already and that’s your quota for like, ever.” 

There was a strangled chuckle and Dean smirked at the sound. “Whatever,” she mumbled. 

“Shall we get some breakfast?” 

Charlotte nodded and opened the door but waited just beyond it for him. He could understand if at the moment she didn’t want to be alone. He’d be afraid to be alone too. The living room was filled with Sam asleep on the couch and John having put up a makeshift bed onto the floor. Both of them were still asleep and Dean followed the girl into the kitchen. She was busy turning on pans and digging into the fridge for eggs and sausages. “Do you want any?” He nodded and worked on making a pot of coffee. No doubt his Dad would be up soon. 

As he waited for the pot, to make himself a cup, he watched Charlotte work around the kitchen. She was holding up well, considering. 

Bobby appeared seconds later and he set his hands on Charlotte’s shoulders. “You okay?” 

Charlotte nodded, wiping a tear away. “I’ll be fine I guess. Dad always did joke that Hunters died saving somebody else and getting no credit for it.” 

“Ain’t that the truth,” Dean muttered. 

Bobby glanced at him something stern. Charlotte sighed and patted Bobby’s arm. He looked back down at her and she said, “What am I going to do now?” 

“What do you mean?” 

Charlotte fixed her eyes on the food that was frying in the pan and sighed, her shoulders slumping with her sigh. “I don’t have any… parents.” There was a choked sob and the two men in the room shared a look before they went back to the girl. “Or grandparents. Not that I know off. I mean-” another choked sob and Bobby simply lifted the girl up to him in a hug. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and she broke. 

Bobby nodded Dean to the pan and he took over, watching as Bobby took the girl out the back so as to not disturb the two sleeping forms in the living room. 

Soon the food was done, the pot boiled and his Dad was walking into the kitchen to grab a plate of food and a hot cup. “How is she doing son?” 

Dean shrugged a shoulder. “She’s upset and worried about what’s going to happen.” He saw his Dad nod and bit the inside of his cheek, wondering if he could ask. _Ah screw it_. “What happened out there?” 

John sighed and leaned against the counter. “We were jumped from two directions. One minute we’ve got four hellspawns in our sight and the next Peter’s throat’s been ripped out and I’m fighting for my life.” 

His Dad’s storytelling, the bluntness of it, made Dean want to gag but he hid it well and nodded with a well-practiced blank face. “What about his body?” 

Dean didn’t miss the pause before his Dad spoke. “Hunter’s burial. Don’t worry. I took care of it.” 

Again he nodded, face blank of any questionability to the story. He watched his Dad’s back disappear into the living room. Seconds later Sammy appeared looking tired. Dean plated him some eggs and sausages and told him to grab a drink for himself. “Where’s Charlotte?” he asked. 

Dean nodded to the back door. “She’s talking with Bobby.” Then he sighed and turned to face his brother. “Sorry about kicking you out of bed last night.” 

Sam smiled innocently. “It’s okay. You were making her feel better.” 

He nodded resolutely and told his brother to go eat. Sam walked away, plate and drink in hand and Bobby and Charlotte walked in then. “Are you two eating in or out?” 

Bobby smiled at Dean’s attempt to lighten the mood and said, “In, and it better be good boy.” 

“Yes sir! Charlotte? In or out?” 

“In.” 

He noticed the stained cheeks but didn’t say anything. Noticed that she looked a little bit lighter at least. Whatever her and Bobby had talked about had obviously helped. “Everything okay?” 

She shrugged. “Bobby said I can stay as long as I want. He wants me to stay. That I’m welcome to stay.” 

Dean smiled and flipped the egg. “Of course you are! What’s Bobby’s is ours right? Besides,” he pressed the spatula over the egg and waited for it to sizzle for several seconds before he spoke again, “You need to work on that old car of yours.” 

She smiled up at him and nodded. “I’ll fix it up and before you know it it’ll be good as new.” 

“You’ve got five years.” 

“What?” 

He repeated his point with a straight face. “Five years to fix it up. Otherwise I win.” 

There was silence between them for a few seconds before she narrowed her eyes with a smirk, “I didn’t realise we were betting on this.” 

He winked at her. “Oh we’re betting Princess.” She punched his arm and he chuckled. “Watch the pan,” he warned with a grin. “But yeah, we’re definitely betting on that.” 

Again she narrowed her eyes and Dean watched her face as she worked something out in her mind. “What happens if I don’t get it fixed in five years?” 

Again Dean winked, “I’ll let you know then. But, if you win, well, you can let _me_ know in five years what it is.” 

There was silence again before she said. “Fine. Challenge accepted. Hope you’re ready to lose Winchester.” 

He took the outstretched hand with an all knowing smirk and said, “Oh trust me, I’m not going to be losing.”


	9. 1996 - May

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

He wasn’t glaring. Dean didn’t glare. Seventeen year old Dean was not glaring at fourteen year old Charlotte and the fourteen year old boy she was with.

He didn’t glare.

They laughed. His eyes narrowed. And he felt the corner of his bottom lip curl. Books were strewn between them across the desk in the kitchen and glasses were filled with juice. Yet their eyes were fixed on glancing at each other now and again. “Studying,” she had said.

“Okay,” Bobby had said.

And he and Sam had arrived just before they had with books and bags in hands. They’d claimed the kitchen for themselves, Bobby having warned Charlotte about the phones he’d had fixed to the wall with different government labels. “I’ll get them, don’t worry,” she said, waving him away.

And Dean glared as the boy sat himself down just that little _too_ close to her. _‘No_ ,’ he thought, shaking his head, ‘ _I don’t glare.’_

Since he’d last seen her two years ago he couldn’t disagree that she was developing well. Hell when she’d greeted Sammy with a hug the thirteen year old boy had stood there just a little awkward. _‘Even Sammy can tell_.’ 

He shook his head again and moved into the kitchen. Bobby had said he could have one drink, but that that was it until tomorrow. Neither of them paid him any attention and he opened the fridge, made as much noise as possible as he dragged one bottle out, slammed the fridge shut, placed his drink on the side, yanked the drawer open to rattle everything inside, rooted through the utensils, slammed it shut with another rattle, opened the lid and loudly dropped it into the bin. 

Not one look. 

He sighed, loudly, and got a response then. “Can I help you with something Dean?” 

He shrugged and leaned against the counter, “Nope.” 

Then he just stared at her. She rolled her eyes turned back with a sigh and said, “Whatever. So you were saying about the Civil War again?” 

Dean tuned the conversation out and shook his head to check out her progress on her car. It sat in its usual spot outside and he smiled. Oh he was going to win. A smirk broke out and he chuckled to himself. 

Once Dean had left Charlotte eyed Mark with a look. He dropped his pen, darted his head to look to the back door and smiled back, “Now that we’re finally alone…” 

She had to bite her tongue and stop the eye roll. The comment died on her tongue, _‘Get some better lines.’_ “Don’t say it too loudly,” she muttered, pulling herself closer towards him on her chair. “So, on the way back you were saying?” 

Mark chuckled and leaned closer to her to whisper, “That you should come with me to the school dance.” 

Charlotte smiled warmly. “I’d love to.” And Mark pressed his mouth to hers. She reciprocated and fell into the touch. Three weeks ago he’d asked her out, kind of. He’d asked her to come along to a film and Bobby had relented eventually. Then there were the arcade meetings and the hanging out in the park. 

Just nice little activities. 

And soon they had had their first kiss. 

This constituted as their seventh one, she thought. She’d lost track after five. But she could say that they were in a new relationship. 

Then the phone had gone and she sighed out of the kiss, pressed her mouth to his once in a peck and shoved her seat back. “Sorry, I got to take this.” She turned her back on Mark and picked up the phone that said ‘Fed. Marshall.’ “Yeah?” she drawled into the phone, taking it a few steps towards the back door. 

Outside of the doorframe she could see Dean looking over her Pontiac and she glared at the man’s back. “Yeah he’s one of ours.” The drawl stayed in place as she spoke. “No, look, I already called ahead he has full permission.” Then the seventeen year old spotted her and waved a thumb at the car. She flipped him off with an eye roll and Dean only smirked.  
  
She hated him some days. 

And the man sauntered, _sauntered_ towards her. He hovered in the doorway and Charlotte felt her patience dwindling. “You listen here,” she called down the phone. “If I have to leave this damn kidnapping case I’m on to come down there to prove to your sorry ass that that man is a part of my department I swear to God I will call up the DA and have you suspended.” 

Dean smirked at her and wriggled past her and sat in her seat, facing Mark.

She pinched her eyes shut and willed the conversation to end.

Then another one rung. “You got that?” She called down the phone, stalking back to the kitchen to put the phone down and grab the ‘FBI’ handset. “Kelly here,” she greeted as she moved back to the doorway, Dean and Mark in her periphery. Again, she kept the drawl in her voice.  
  
Whatever the older boy was saying was making Mark look at her in some funny and weird ways. “Yeah well the boss is out and I’m his assistance.” Then the man on the other end of the line made some comment about assistants being a waste of federal tax dollars and she turned to step out of the house a few paces and growl down the phone, “You listen to me you piece of shit ass county sheriff. When my boss is away working on serial killers, weird and wacky cases or kidnappings, I have to deal with you and many others like you asking if he and many others like him are a part of our agency. If anybody is wasting federal tax dollars it is you and all of the other untrustful cops like you. Goodbye!” And she pressed the hang up button on the handset. 

She stopped in the doorway. Mark seemed worried and Dean, well, she couldn’t see his face but she sure as hell was going to kill him no matter what happened next. “Everything okay?” she asked, trying to ignore Dean. 

Mark seemed to fumble for words as he gathered up his stuff. “I should probably get going,” he said. 

Charlotte’s mood dropped. “What?” 

He looked up at her then and shrugged his shoulders, “I need to get home for tea.” 

Now she was frowning. Her feet slowly carried her into the house and towards the wall with the other handsets. “It’s only half three.” 

He shrugged again, “I should probably leave.” And he was stuffing things into bags. 

She turned her face down to the grinning boy in her seat and glared at him. “Whatever he has said, I apologise. Dean thinks that his immaturity is the stuff of jokes and legends.” 

Mark shook his head, “No it’s okay. I understand.” 

Now she was confused. “Understand what?” 

His eyes fixed themselves on hers and he nodded to the stairs, where Bobby was upstairs. “He’s old school right?” 

More frowning, a smirk around the bottle from Dean. “Yeah? So?” She pushed the phone back into its place and waited. 

Mark sighed and settled his hands onto the strap of his messenger bag, “I get it, I do, but the least you could’ve done is told me.” 

Charlotte was confused. Fully. Get what? Told him what? “I’m sorry?” 

Mark ducked his eyes and after an awkward minute lifted them again to greet her. “You could’ve told me you wanted him to think you weren’t, you know,” now Mark was struggling for words, shrugging his shoulders as he went before he sighed. “I know your Dad’s old and still thinks that guys and girls should be the way forward. And you should’ve just said you wanted him to be happy with you.” 

“What?” 

Then he offered a sympathetic, _fucking sympathetic_ _and sad smile._ “If your interest is girls fair enough.” Anger started to boil in her blood. “If you wanted to make your Dad proud of you for following his beliefs, then fair enough, but the least you could’ve done is not pretend to me. So,” his voice steadied his body and the annoyance that radiated from his body was clear in the sigh he let loose. “I’m going. It would’ve been nice Charlotte.” 

Mark gave her a final nod and wave before he pulled himself through the house to leave. 

Silence erupted and Charlotte stood there, eyes fixed on the wall in a slight frown, mouth hung open in shock. Then Dean moved and she closed her eyes, closed her mouth into a down cast frown. Slowly she opened her eyes, folded her arms over her chest and turned her body to Dean’s. He looked up from his seat, smiled up at her, chucked one arm over the back of his seat and took another sip of beer. “Can I help you?” 

Charlotte offered him her best fake grin, the corners of her mouth tight and her eyes glaring. “What was that?” 

Dean nodded his head once and said, eyes squinted as if in thought, “I think that _that_ was Mark breaking up with you.” 

She tilted her head to one side, ever so slightly, “I got that much.” She unfurled her arms and stepped closer to him. One hand reached to lean against the table, the other on the back of his chair and she brought her face forward to glare inches from his face. “What did _you_ say to him?” 

She saw him physically back up and gulp and for several seconds he mumbled false starts. Then he cleared his throat, let one brow raise and said confidently, “Just that you have a thing for girls.” He shrugged and continued. “And that you’re with Mark to make Bobby happy.” 

Charlotte let herself glare at him for a few more silent seconds before she pushed herself away and back towards the salvage yard in silence. She deliberately slowed her pace and ignored his mumbling until she could hear him following her. “Charlotte? _Babe_? Are you ignoring me now?” Silence. She stepped out into the dimming sunlight and waited until she could hear him right behind her. “The silent treatment? Oh that’s cute. You know he was just trying to get into your pants right?” Then she turned and brought her fist into his face. 

The beer clattered to the floor, spilling its contents and Dean yelped and grabbed his face. “Jesus Christ woman!” He was holding his nose as drips of red began to appear. “What the hell was that for?” 

Charlotte smirked and stepped closer to him, “That, is for making me a lesbian.” 

“It was just a joke,” he replied, eyes glaring as one hand worked to pull a handkerchief out of a pocket to apply to his nose. 

Charlotte shrugged and turned, “You’ve gotta pay the price for your jokes Dean!” 

“Ow!” Then she heard footsteps stumbling after her, “So you nearly break my nose?” 

She shrugged and moved to her car, looking over what needed to be done next. “Well if you will open your mouth.” 

“A little too much don’t you think?” His voice was rising and again she shrugged. She had liked Mark and he hadn’t been too questionable about what she omitted from what she told him about her life. 

“You will turn me into a lesbian Dean. I liked Mark! I was happy!” And she turned to glare at him. “I was happy Dean. Was that so bad?” 

The man rolled his eyes and pulled the handkerchief away, his nose having stopped bleeding. “He just wanted to get into your pants.” 

Charlotte recoiled with one hand pointed at him, “And you don’t want to get into girls pants when you’ve only known them for what? An hour?” 

Dean actually had the heart to look surprised. “What? No! I-” 

Charlotte shook her head and turned to lean over the engine of her car. “Just drop it and walk away.” She heard the man scoff and after several quiet seconds he mumbled as he walked away. Then she pushed all thoughts of the man out of her mind and set to work on her car.


	10. 1996 - October

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

Charlotte looked over the engine, hoping that it would be light enuogh to lift with the old hoist Bobby had in his garage. With a sigh she decided to grab a couple of wrenches and a screwdriver. Each tool was shoved into a pocket and she pulled herself over the engine. She was going to have to take pieces off of it before she pulled it out and she hoped she could take a lot of it off.

Bobby had offered to help but she'd wanted to do this all on her own. He'd held his hands up and stepped out of the way.

The wind bit at her fingers with a slight chill and the sun hid itself behind the clouds. All in all, it wasn't the best of conditions to be working in.

Her hands were deep in the engine, trying to pull out the broken timing belt, when Bobby shouted at her, "Hey kid! You've got a friend."

She nodded, managed to pull the belt out and sighed. Then she turned and found her eyes straying to the back door. "Hi," she said.

At the door was Carl. He was in her maths and geography classes and as the new school year had started she'd found herself a new friend. "Hey," he ambled over to her, a smirk playing on his face. "So this is what you do when you're not at school?"

She'd skipped one day of school. Big deal.

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "Yeah, oops." And she turned to the workbench to pick up a rag to wipe her hands with. "What'd I miss?"

He shook his head and let himself look over the engine itself in curiosity. "Just Mr Jenkins having a full on fit when Hannah had to be pulled from the class for smoking."

She turned wide eyes at him. "You serious?"

He nodded, eyes coming back to her. "Yeah." Then he nodded to the car. "I take it your Dad taught you what to do."

It wasn't a question but Charlotte answered it anyway with a bright smile. "Yeah, I mean, I still don't know everything there is to know but, I know the majority and anything else I just ask Bobby for help." Carl was frowning and Charlotte narrowed her eyes, "What?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "It's weird."

Now Charlotte was frowning. "What's weird?"

"You always call your Dad 'Bobby'."

She gave a slight chuckle, "Well that is his name."

"Yeah I know, I mean, he's your Dad though right? Generally people call their Dad's Dad."

She ducked her head at that. So Bobby was a surrogate Dad. So what? So she didn't call him Dad. Big deal. She shrugged and turned back to the car. "He knows I love him. That's what matters."

Out of the corner of her eye she could see him turn away from her and say distantly, "I suppose. Who's the wannabe biker dude and the other one?"

She turned her head over her shoulder and smirked at Carl's description of Dean. "Just a couple of friends." And her eyes were on Carl. "Dare you to say that to his face."

"Say what?"

"Wannabe biker."

Carl eyed Dean up for a few seconds as he and Sam approached and shook his head, "Nah, he looks, pissy. Like it's his time of the month."

Charlotte laughed into the engine and she could hear footsteps stopping. Still battling to beat down the laughter she turned to the brothers. "Hey, how's," another chuckle, "everything been?"

Dean was frowning, and glaring, but Sam looked only confused. "What's so funny?"

She shook her head at Dean's question. "Nothing."

"Uh huh. I'm gonna go grab a beer."

"Whatever. Hey Sammy."

The thirteen year old sighed, rolled his eyes and said, "It's Sam." Then he looked at Carl, then Charlotte, back, and back again. "How's everything been here?"

"Same old same old. Grumpy phone calls all hours of the day, Idjit cursing, the usual." She noticed Carl shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Oh, this is Carl, a friend from school. Carl this is Sam. Sam Carl."

"Oh," Carl said, "This is Sam, so, is that wannabe biker dude Dean then?"

Charlotte stifled a laugh. "He's not a wannabe biker."

"And he'd kill you if he heard you say that," Sam said, trying to stifle his own smile. "Nice to meet you Carl."

Carl nodded. "You too Sam." And turned to Charlotte. "I should probably get going. Mum gets annoyed if I'm not home by five."

She nodded. "I'll see you out. Sam, don't touch."

"I'm just going to look," the thirteen year old said, his hands up, palms forward.

"Oh," Carl said as they reached the back door, "I brought work. That's why I came round." In the kitchen Dean was busy looking through the pantry for food and he looked up as they entered. Carl dropped his bag onto the desk and shuffled through it. Charlotte didn't miss the look Dean threw the guy and rolled her eyes at him. "Jenny gave me English and science work for you as well."

Charlotte sighed as she was handed a pile of papers. "Thanks. If I don't come in tomorrow don't bother with the work. Please?"

Carl chuckled. "I'll think about it. See you tomorrow. Maybe."

"Yeah," she said as she opened the front door. "Thanks for coming round."

Carl smiled brightly at her. "My pleasure."

And the door was closed. "Who's the boy band?"

She rolled her eyes with a sigh at Dean's remark. "Carl. And he's a nice guy."

"Let me guess," he said with a smirk, "He's awfully nice to you, brings you work when you decide to not go in. Says he just wants to be friends."

"Oh my God," Charlotte muttered and she moved past him to grab a drink from the fridge. "Dean? Are you jealous?"

"What?"

She turned with a smirk and a bottle of water in her hands. "Are you jealous?"

He was frowning in disbelief but Charlotte was only grinning triumphantly. "No! Jealous of what? Some fourteen year old trying to mark his territory on you? Ha!" he chuckled to himself and shook his head. "No. _I_ don't get jealous."

"Uh huh," she said and she moved past him towards the back door. "Hey Sammy!"

"It's Sam!" was the thirteen year olds response.

"Whatever," she mumbled and she stepped out into the darkening air. "Does Dean get jealous?"

Sam turned his eyes away from the car with a frown. "What?"

She rolled her eyes at the similarity between the brothers and said again, "Does Dean get jealous? Yes or no?"

"Erm," the boy was thinking and whilst he did she picked up a couple of tools and sat them inside the pockets of her jeans. "I don't think so. I've never seen him jealous."

"See?" Dean said all too proudly. "I don't get jealous."

"Whatever," she muttered. "So where's John today?"

"Missouri," Sam replied. "Something about a friend."

"Huh," Charlotte said as she started loosening the pipes, cables and any other valves or lines that connected the engine to the car. "Hey Dean, you wanna help me get this outta here?"

"Nope."

She turned her eyes over her shoulder with a glare and the man rolled his eyes. "Thank you," she muttered as he shook off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. She moved into the small garage and pulled out an engine hoist.

"You owe me," he said as he eyed up the engine. "You done everything beforehand?"

Now she rolled her eyes. "Yes. I've taken almost everything off it."

Dean sighed and grabbed one of the chains that dangled from the hook. "Okay," he said. "You got the other side?" She nodded. "Okay."

Charlotte nodded, and she sunk her hands into the car, searching for a hook on point. It took a couple of minutes to attach the hook and she gave it a single shake when she was happy that it was locked into place. She watched Dean do the same thing and he nodded at her. She stepped around the feet of the hoist and waited until Dean was on the other side before she said, “On three?”

He nodded and she started to count, “One, two, three.” There was some groaning from the both of them as they worked on lifting the engine high enough that it wouldn’t scrape across the car. Whilst Dean kept the engine steady Charlotte moved the hoist backwards, clearing the engine of the car completely.

She helped him to ease the engine down and onto the floor with a gentle thud and smiled brightly up at him. “Thanks,” she said.

"I'm going to go get a drink," Sam said. "Do you want anything?"

"Oh I could go for a beer."

"Make that a double," Charlotte said.

Sam pulled a face at Charlotte and she waved him off. Once the boy was gone she stood up herself eyed the engine. "Thanks for that."

Dean stood next to her, grabbed the rag and started to wipe his hands with it. "No problem, but, _technically_ this isn't doing it all by yourself."

The smirk had her staring at him, eyebrows raised in questioning. "I didn't realise you were serious about that."

He turned and nodded, "Deadly."

She rolled her eyes and reached past him for a wrench, "Whatever. Plus you only helped to lift it. You haven't actually done any work on it. So it still counts."

"Uh huh," he said and he watched as she fiddled around with some of the parts she'd left attached. After a few minutes of her pulling something the wrong way he batted her hands away, twisted it one way and watched as it came off with practiced ease. He handed the piece to her with a shit eating grin and she only bumped her hip into his.

"Show off."

"Some of us get our hands well and truly dirty."

She held her grease stained ones up, "And this isn't?"

He eyed them and shook his head. "Nope." And his face fell as she wiped her hands across his face. For several seconds he stood there, grease stains on his face and a frown sitting comfortably on his features. Then he turned to face her, glaring at her smirking expression. "Really? You had to do it?"

She nodded, stuck her tongue out and started to walk around him. "Not my fault you get jealous," she muttered and she pushed past him to get inside the car where the engine used to sit. Sam came back then, one bottle of beer and two glasses of orange juice in his hands.

"I'm not jealous!”


	11. 1998 - June

_South Dakota - Sioux Falls_

John Winchester wanted the boys out of the way whilst he hunted down a lead on the yellow eyed demon. The man had said that where he was going it was going to be too dangerous for him to worry about his sons. Bobby had told them to play nice whilst he and another hunter looked through the books and did some herbal mixing.

So they had been kicked to the outside world of the salvage yard. Well, Dean had. Sam had told Bobby he was going to do some school work upstairs where it was quiet and the older man had approved

Dean stopped in the doorway. Bent over the hood of a newly un-rusted frame was a very nice looking ass. All logic in his mind told him the owner of said ass would kick his for staring. But his hormones couldn't help it.

He still stared.

After several seconds he found the motivation to move and stepped forward. He could hear cursing, muttering and the hitting of metal and metal and couldn't help the smirk that worked its way onto his face. "Nice ass," his mouth dropped and his face fell with the comment.

Until she sighed and turned, then his face was grinning with a smirk. He winked. She sighed, loudly, rolled her eyes and went to the workbench. "Nice douchebag haircut."

He touched his hair, trying to remember the last time he did have a haircut, and frowned. "What?"

Her eyes were on the workbench, running over the pieces she still hadn't put back into the engine two years after pulling it out. "Nothing. Where's Sam?"

"Doing schoolwork." He stopped in front of the car and took a look inside the engine. It looked half finished. Sort of. Maybe. He couldn't quite make sense of it. "What are you doing in here? I can't-"

She pushed him away and put her hands, holding a few spark plugs, into the car to put into the engine. "I know what I'm doing."

He noticed the attitude then. The lack of smirking, comments or anything that was just... her. "What's wrong?"

Charlotte's blue eyes flicked up to meet green ones. "Nothing." And they were gone again.

"Uh huh."

"Whatever." And she pushed past him to work her way into the car itself. The gear stick was gone so that she could lie across the driver and passenger seat to reach underneath the dash. "Do me a favour, pass me the pliers, wire tape and that coil of wire."

He did so and noticed the couple of inches of naked skin her shirt revealed when it ribbed up. The shorts she wore had his mind wondering to where the pale skin led. "Stop it," he couldn't miss the smirk in her voice then and he smiled, his eyes lifting up to look at her.

"Stop what?"

She lifted her head to angle her smirk up at him. "That," she pointed the pliers at him. "That face. Get rid of it."

"Come on," he said as he sauntered to the driver’s door. He rested one arm against the top of the doorless frame and peered in. "It's only good news if I'm thinking this right?"

She shook her head with a sigh and Dean chuckled. "Whatever," she muttered. "You going to stand there all day looking or are you going to give me a hand?"

Dean chuckled again and ducked his head into the small space. "I think I'll watch, you know, since you're supposed to do this on your own."

"Oh my God," she said and he could hear the shaking of her head. "I never agreed to this bet."

"No but you're gonna work to it anyway."

"Uh huh."

He sighed and shook his coat away. "Well if you're gonna gripe and moan."

"Fine, shove off."

"Shove off?"

"What?"

"Shove off? Seriously?"

She chuckled and eyed him from her position. "Do me a favour and check the pedal lines? I'm sure I refitted them right."

"Yeah." He picked up a couple of tools and shuffled onto the floor. "Move 'em," he nudged her legs and she lifted them onto the edge of the frame and Dean shrugged underneath the car. After several seconds Dean called out, "Your front disc brakes need replacing."

"I know."

"Suspensions screwed to hell."

"I know. Just check the friggin pedal lines."

"Alright." Silence. "Yeah, they're good." More silence. "You need to replace the drive axle."

She sighed. "I know."

"Just saying."

"Uh huh." They worked in silence for a few minutes before Charlotte sat herself on the edge of the car. "You wanna get up?"

Dean poked his head back out and stared up at her. "Huh?"

She arched one brow with a smirk. "I don't want to stand on you. Move."

"Oh, right."

And he rolled out from underneath the car. She set her feet onto the floor and said, "Besides, I thought I had to do this on my own."

He smirked and held out his hand, "Yeah well, if you cheat on the way it only means I'm closer to winning."

She took his hand. "Uh huh." And he pulled her up. Over the past two years their height had levelled off and now, she met eye to eye with him.

"So how's Carol these days?"

She rolled her eyes and moved to look over the engine. "Carl. He's fine. _Pretty damn fine_ , but you know. All he needed was an extra few years and bam, he's something."

"Right," he stretched.

"So how's everything been for you?"

"Well," he leaned his back against the edge of the car, hands on the metal. "The girls have been great. You know," he removed his hands to exaggerate his point. "Great assets."

"Oh my God, you are so disgusting."

He winked at her. "Yet the ladies love it."

She turned to look at him, her expression unimpressed. "Right. Maybe they just look at that ugly mug of yours and are too stunned to say anything about it."

"Ugly? Well trust me. Guys are only going to be looking at your junk. They ain't going to be caring what comes out of your mouth."

And he kicked himself as she turned, hands on her hips and eyes narrowed with a slight smirk daring to make an entrance. Then she faltered and let herself fall back against the edge of the car, hands back and chest pushed out just that little bit that was enough to make him look. "Well, sometimes Dean, we women, just can't help ourselves." And she pushed her chest out just that little bit further. Dean's throat was drying up and he was doing his damndest honest to God best to not stare. He would be lying if he said she wasn't attractive in any such way.

But she was and she was flaunting it.

His jeans twitched.

She slid along the car until her hip nudged his and he had to pretend she didn't just nudge him in the wrong spot that only made his jeans twitch a little more. The heat her body let off in the June weather was making him even more hot and bothered then the sun. Her arm was brushing up against his chest and every single movement she made his eyes caught.

He hated her.

"Because you men," her voice had lowered an octave and it was bordering on sultry. _Where in the hell did she learn to do that?_ "Just can't help yourselves either." And she was pushing herself into his personal space. He could feel her body begin to lightly push itself against him, just enough to tease him and she was forcing her mouth near to his ear to whisper, "We all want the same thing. Something good and damn gorgeous to look at."

She pulled away enough for him to turn his face to hers and he felt any hold he had on restraint slip away. Her mouth was angled in a smirk and her eyes were heavy with tease. The fire behind his own burned and he couldn't help it. Couldn't help the effect she had on him and he forced one hand on her cheek and the other on her waist. The motion was fluid and quick and in the same short seconds he was pulling her to him and pressing his mouth to hers.

His eyes snapped open when she didn't respond and he pulled away to stare, shocked at what he'd just done. "I'm- I-"

Wide blue eyes stared at him and for several seconds they just stood there, Dean holding her whilst her hands gripped the upper arms of his shirt. Then her arms moved, her hands folded themselves into the collar of his shirt and she was pulling him back. The embers that had been burning inside him erupted into a fire.

He pushed her against the edge of the car and drove the kiss further, deeper, igniting any sparks that settled themselves between them. Her hands slipped around his neck, drawing him in with each touch and his own hands slipped themselves underneath the fabric of her own shirt to hold her waist and trace hot fingers against flush skin.

His hands drove higher, finding the bottom of her ribs to play along them, holding her tighter against him. One of hers had slipped down to pull on his waist, keeping him close. He pushed her further against the car, wishing all to hell the hood was down. But he made do and kept hold of her, deepening the kiss with each passing second.

Then they parted, pressing foreheads together with closed eyes. When Dean opened his eyes Charlotte was biting her bottom lip and his body begged him to kiss her again. She looked up and he offered her a half assed smile. "Well Princess, I never knew."

She pulled back to punch him in the arm. "Jerk face." He chuckled and pulled her back against him. "I hate you," she muttered with a grimace and Dean frowned as she pulled herself away from him.

"What?"

She turned her back on him, shrugged and sighed. "There's no point."

Dean tried again, "What?"

She turned, hands on her hips. "You have no idea what the word 'relationship' means Dean. You're going to move on to the next town, find a girl, flirt with her and shack up in her bed. I'm not an idiot.” He did not know what to say to that. It was true, he would move to the next town, would flirt with a girl to shack up, but that was just... _him_. But it was her next words that he drew the line at, "This is just to pass the time. I'm not stupid."

"Okay," he said, all manner of nice gone, "One, this is _not_ to pass the time. Two, you know me! Of course I'm going to find a girl to hook up with and three, relationship?"

She folded her arms then and said, "You're always on the move. Hunting god knows what next and I'm here fixing cars. I just want you to know that whatever that was that we just did-"

"You mean the kissing?"

"Forget about it. It doesn't go any further then that because it can't.”

He opened his mouth to reply but she was already throwing down her tools and storming back to the house. He stood, hands by his sides, mind thinking back over the conversation they'd just had. After several seconds he sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands, annoyed with himself. Annoyed with her. Everything.


	12. 1999 - January

His phone buzzed. It had been a long day and a long night and Dean scowled as he grabbed his phone, answered it with a short and snappy, “Hello?"  
  
“Dean?” Charlotte’s voice was curious, ignorant of his foul mood and Dean could feel the tenseness in his shoulders begin to slip away, just about. 

He surveyed the room to see his Dad and Sam fuming. He closed his eyes and said, “Charlotte?” He yawned and scrubbed a hand over his face. When she didn’t automatically reply he let his brows crease and said, “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah…” she started and he could hear the wariness in her voice. “Just, you know, thinking.” 

He arched one brow, “About?” 

“Never mind.” 

“Okay?” He heard her sigh and closed his eyes. He didn’t need her being vague on top of the crap with his family. “What?” he hissed a little too angrily. 

“Nothing. You know what, forget it.” 

The line went dead and he sighed. Dean lifted his eyes back to his room and took note of the glance Sam had thrown towards their Dad and the look his Dad had given Dean then Sam. So many unsaid words that Dean could feel crawling up the wall, desperate to be said, and he wanted no part in it. When his phone rang again he took the distraction and said, “You gonna tell me what’s wrong with you now?” 

“Happy Birthday,” she blurted. 

It took him a few seconds for his brain to catch up and he shook his head with a single, “What?” 

In her sigh he could hear her eye roll, “It’s your birthday. Typically people wish each other a happy birthday.” 

“Oh,” was it? He’d lost track of the days and to be honest, it had been a long time since they’d properly celebrated birthdays. “Okay,” he managed after a few moments, “erm, thanks?” 

She chuckled and he felt the corner of his mouth begin to curl. He dared another look to the room and watched Sam train his eyes on their Dad. He let himself sink into Charlotte’s voice as she said, “Don’t make it sound like you’ve never had a birthday or anything.” 

He gave her an awkward chuckle, “Yeah of course.” He cleared his throat and tried to ignore the nagging in his stomach that somebody was going to explode. Dean kept his eyes fixed on the bed sheets as he said, “So, how’ve you been?” 

“Good. You and Sammy still okay?” 

“Yeah, I mean,” he gave Sam a look and turned his legs over the side of the bed so that his back was to the room. In a low voice he carried on, “Sam’s bitching about wanting to go to school, then college.”  
  
“So he doesn’t like hunting. Leave him alone.” 

“Yeah?” He could hear Sam mutter underneath his breath and closed his eyes with a strained sigh before he said in another low voice, “Try telling my Dad that.” 

“What do you mean?”  
  
“One second.” He pulled the phone away from his ear and stood, his eyes on the room. Dean refused to look at either of them as he said, “Back in a minute,” and stepped outside. The cool air was a welcome change from the heat the tension was stirring up and he closed the door with a sag of his shoulders. There was still enough traffic to make it seem like the world was on the verge of sleeping and Dean took a few steps away from the door and said, “Sam’s said to Dad he doesn’t want to learn how to hunt, doesn’t want to learn how to fight. Dad just turns around and tells him that there are monsters out there and that he needs to protect them. That it’s our job.” 

“Well…” 

He frowned, “Well what?” 

“Technically it’s not. We’re just the people crazy enough to believe this crap and face it head on. Seriously, no sane person would think of taking on a vampire, or an evil poltergeist that had already killed five people in the past year.” 

“True.” 

Then there was a sigh from her, “But I don’t blame Sam. To be honest your Dad’s a bit of a moron if he thinks he can control Sam’s life.” 

“Hey, be careful what you say about him. He’s still my Dad you know.” 

“Yeah, yeah, look. All I’m saying is that your Dad, he’s umm, he’s a little… ugh.” 

He paused, his brows raised as he waited for her to finish what she was trying to say. When it was clear that she had finished talking he said, “I’m sorry, ‘a little… _ugh’_? What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
She sighed, defeated and he frowned at that sound. “Nothing. Look, I should go.” 

Voices started behind him and Dean gave her a tired sigh. “Me too.” 

“Sam and your Dad?” 

“Catch you later.” 

“Happy Birthday.” 

“Yeah,” he scoffed, “some birthday.” 

“Try to have some fun at least.” 

He smirked, “Oh I’ve got a date with a cheerleader tomorrow.” 

He could feel the eye roll and shake of her head as she said, “Modern day Casanova.” _  
_

Then she hung up and Dean shook his head, his mouth caught in the start of a smile and finally put his phone into his pocket. He turned his eyes back to the door where voices were coming from and sighed, his smile disappearing. It was the same conversation, the same routine and it was wearing him down. 

Sam’s phone rang and he took a moment to stop telling his Dad that he was wrong to grab his phone and shove it to his ear with a snappy, “Hello?”  
  
Charlotte was on the other end of the line and he could hear the glare in her voice, “Sam? Stop arguing.” 

“Charlotte?” The door to their motel room opened and Sam watched Dean walk in, a defeated look in his eyes as he scoured the room between Sam and John. Sam tried to give him an apologetic smile as he started towards his brother and the door. John started in on him with the same conversation of ‘Somebody needs to help those people and that thing that killed you Mom…’ Sam snapped, turned and said, “No! You know what Dad-” 

“Don’t make me come down there and slap you Sammy!” 

He sighed, his argument lost and said, “It’s Sam. Dad, can I take this? Thank you.” He didn’t even wait for an answer from his Dad before he gave Dean a quick, ‘Hey, good luck with him.’ ‘Yeah, well thanks Sammy.’ ‘Dean.’ ‘Forget it.’ Sam shook his head, giving his brothers back a quick frown before he shuffled out into the open air and closed the door behind him. He gave a sigh before he started, his body slumped against the wall of the motel, “What do you want?” 

“You done arguing with your Dad yet?” She sighed and he ducked his eyes. “I’m just saying I agree. Your Dad is a bit of a dick.” 

“Well that dick doesn’t want me to go to college. Telling me that Hunting is the family business.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“But you know, I want to study law! I want to _not_ hunt. I don’t want to and he won’t let me.” 

There was a pause before he could hear the smile in her voice, “Anyone ever tell you you’re a bit of a drama queen?” 

“Charlotte.” 

“I’m being serious. You could be the biggest drama queen I know, well, after Dean that is.” 

He gave a short chuckle at that, “Yeah well, thanks for that.” 

“You’re welcome. Now, just you know, apologise.” 

“But he-” 

There was an irritated groan from her and he shut his mouth, “Be the bigger frigging man Sam. You’re almost taller than him anyway!” 

He kept his mouth shut for a few seconds, divulging her words. He was still pissed, still angry that his Dad was telling him what he could and could not do and he could feel the anger beginning to grow within him at that very thought, “I swear if he tells me I have to hunt for the rest of my life-” 

“Oh dear God, forget it. Forget it! I give up!” 

“No! I shouldn’t have to apologise for wanting a different life to what he wants of me!” 

“It’s Dean’s birthday.” He clamped his mouth shut then and frowned. He’d forgotten it was Dean’s birthday. “He feels shit on _his_ birthday because of you and your Dad! If it was your birthday he’d be trying to make it the best day ever!” 

He ducked his eyes again, the guilt starting to climb up the inside of his chest. She was right. Dean always tried to do something for him and Sam usually tried to do something back, even if he couldn’t do as much he always tried, until now. “Yeah.” 

“So grow some balls. March back in there and tell him you’re sorry. You’ll continue hunting for now. Just don’t keep at it today. For _Dean’s_ sake.” 

“Right.” 

“Okay?”  
  
He nodded once, “Sure.” 

“Good.” 

“Good.” 

“Hey Sam?” 

He gave a pause, wondering what else she had to say before he said, “What?” 

“Drama queen.”

And she hung up then, leaving him with the start of a smirk on his face. He put his phone back into his pocket, eyed the door to the motel room and gave a sigh before he followed her advice. He marched in there, gave John an apology and when he had the chance he wished Dean a Happy Birthday. The next morning he bought his brother a pile of snacks and sweets from the local gas station and they spent the day watching whatever Dean wanted to watch on TV eating junk food.


	13. 1999 - July

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

It had gone one when Dean and Sam were pushed into the Singer household. John’s job this time involved something in Nebraska, something he didn’t want the boys involved in. 

Bobby had answered the door with Charlotte twisting her head from her seat on the couch in the living room. An almost empty bowl of popcorn sat in her lap and once she knew who was knocking she went back to the TV. 

“Right boys,” Bobby said, “one of you can take the couch and the other will have to take the floor, unless somebody’s feeing generous?” 

His eyes were thrown to the seventeen year old on his couch and she turned her head to him briefly and flicked her eyes back at the TV. “They can fight over it. I’ll take the floor.” 

“It’s fine,” Dean started. “I’ll take the floor and Sammy can take the couch.” 

“You’ve been sleeping in crappy motels for God knows how long,” Charlotte said. “One of you is taking the bed tonight, and then you can swap tomorrow night.” 

“She’s got a point,” Bobby said.

The brothers shared a look before Dean sighed and handed the bag to Sam, “Go. I’ll take the couch.” 

“I don’t mind,” Sam said. 

Charlotte waved him off, “Get your skinny ass upstairs. You’re sleeping in that bed.” 

Bobby let the smile play out on his face as he said, “You heard the lady Sam, you’ve got the bed.” 

Sam nodded and pulled the bag over his shoulder, “Yes Bobby.” Bobby followed the youngster up the stairs, giving the other two a good night and a wave before he vanished. 

Silence followed in his wake and Dean stood, hands in his pockets and eyes on Charlotte, the screen, back to her and back to the screen. He felt awkward when she didn’t say anything to him or even seem to look at him. After several seconds of yelling dinosaurs from _Jurassic Park_ he cleared his throat and waited. Charlotte didn’t respond and he frowned and cleared his throat again. 

“Yes Dean?” 

“Can I sit down?” 

She shuffled along until she hugged one side of the couch and simply watched the film. It was almost over and Dean found himself tapping quietly on the arm of the couch. As the seconds dragged by and the silence between them grew, he wished he’d taken the bed tonight. He was doing a lot of tongue biting. 

Once the film finished he felt himself relax just a little as she stood up and started moving around. He allowed a few seconds of watching her pass before he said, “Where are the erm, spare blankets?” 

“I’ll get them,” she said and she disappeared up the stairs for several minutes. Within that time Dean settled himself in by shaking off his jacket, curling that up as a pillow, took his off and tucked his socks into the shoes. Whilst he waited for her to get back he tried to conjure a conversation within his mind, a hopeful one in which they would actually talk. By the time she did come back he was on his feet and his eyes were idly looking over the titles of the books on the shelves. “Here you go.” She dumped a set of pillows and a couple of blankets before she rolled out a makeshift bed set for herself. 

“Can we talk?” 

She glanced up at him with a shrug, “About what?” He only gave her _the_ look and she sighed, “What?” 

“Did I screw up that bad?” 

Now she frowned, “What?” 

“Well, you’re not talking to me. You’re doing your best to ignore me. I know I screwed up _something_ but,” he flailed for a few seconds before he sighed and waved a hand at her, “it was your fault too.” 

She ducked her head, “You started it.” 

“You didn’t have to carry it on.” 

Charlotte rolled her eyes and dropped the blankets to the floor to fold her arms over her chest. “So now it’s _my_ fault?” 

“Yes!” A quick moment later he shook his head and said, “No! Wait-” he faltered for a few seconds before he settled his hands on his hips and hung his head with a sigh. Three seconds passed before he lifted his head with a despairing look. “It was both of us alright? So can we grow up, move on and forget about it?” 

She shrugged and turned back to making her bed, “Forget about what?” 

“The kiss.” 

“What kiss?” 

He clocked on then and found his lips curling into a smile. She looked at him over her shoulder with a smirk and Dean shrugged. “What kiss indeed?” Then he hesitated before he said, “So are we like, cool now? You know… _talking?”_

Charlotte rolled her eyes as she sat herself down onto her makeshift bed. “Yes. We’re cool. We always were. You’re the one who brought it up.” 

He would take that. “Awesome.” The silence was back, only this time it wasn’t as awkward and Dean found that he could relax just a few inches. He was setting up the couch for the night when he stopped and looked down at himself. 

He slept in boxers. 

How was he supposed to take his pants off and explain that it was just how he slept? What would Bobby say? In his mind he groaned and after a few silent seconds of debating he settled for taking them off underneath the blankets. He climbed into his temporary bed and settled himself down until Charlotte turned the lights off. Then he unzipped his pants and spent the next few minutes trying to shuffle out of them. 

“What are you doing?” He froze and waited. Then she said his name, “Dean?” 

“Erm,” he fumbled with his pants and the words in his mouth came out in a tumble, “I sleep better not in pants.” 

“Uh huh,” she said a little disbelievingly. 

He sighed and decided to screw it, kicked off his pants and let them hit the ground with a heavy thud. “Whatever,” he muttered. He pulled the blanket over his shoulder, rolled over and closed his eyes. He heard her roll over too and soon silence enveloped the room. He sighed, rolled to face her and simply looked at the shadowed lump that was her. He still felt as though something was off between them. 

“Do you take your pants off for all the girls?” 

A smirk curled his mouth and he let a single chuckle escape. Okay, so not everything was off. “Only the pretty ones princess.” 

Something landed on his head and he reached an arm out to find the item. “Don’t call me princess. Next time I’m punching you.” 

“Uh huh,” he said and he found the pillow she’d thrown at him. “Sure, whatever you say… _princess_.” And he heard the growl and chuckled. Then the lump he’d been looking at moved, lunged towards him and he brought his hands up as she sat herself atop him, using him as a seat. “Get off,” he threw a light whack to her side. 

She batted him away and proceeded to pull her legs up to lie across him. Dean could feel her elbow painfully digging into his side. “Only when you learn what my name is.” 

“Princess?” He chuckled and she drove her elbow deeper. He winced and said, “Okay, okay, get off me Charlotte.” Her weight was gone and he sighed. 

“Thank you,” she said. “Was that so hard?” 

“Yes.” He coughed once and sat himself up. “Jesus Christ woman,” he said, “have you been tackling giants lately?” 

The couch dipped next to him and she said, “No, just assholes at school.” 

He frowned at that. “What kind of assholes?” 

He could hear the eye roll and she shuffled in her seat, “Just the jocks thinking just because they’re at the top of the school they can do whatever they want.”  
“Okay,” he nodded, “and what have they been doing?” 

“You remember Carl?”  
“Yeah?” 

“Yeah well they don’t like him and he’s been bullied for the past few months. Non-stop. I’ve been kicked out of school three times for fighting.” 

“Seriously?” 

“What?” 

“Kicked out of school?” There was a smile to his tone. 

Charlotte shrugged, “So? I don’t take crap from jerks? Big deal.” 

“No, no,” Dean waved his hand at her, “that’s cool, gimme five.” He held his hand up and in the dark he watched as she struggled to land her palm against his. When she finally slapped her hand against his he nodded. “Alright.” 

He dropped his hand and a comfortable silence stretched around them. He folded his arms across his chest and turned his head in Charlotte’s direction as she said, “You’re not wearing any pants are you?”

Dean looked down at his pantless legs in the dark, shook his head and said, “Nope.”

“Okay.” There was a pause and he frowned, wondering what was going through her head. In the next moment she stood up and Dean turned his head in her general vicinity. “I’m going to try to sleep now. Night Dean.”

He threw himself back across the couch, pulled the blankets up and said, “Night.”


	14. 1999 - July part 2

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls  
_

There was a hushed conversation going on around and he pried sleep covered eyes open a touch. He groaned at the violent intrusion of bright sunlight and Bobby’s voice said, “Rise and shine princess.” 

“What time is it?” 

“Little after eight,” Charlotte answered. 

He groaned again and rolled over to face away from the windows. Bobby and Charlotte continued to talk in hushed voices. He listened to them for a little longer, a frown growing on his face, before Dean decided ‘Screw it’ and threw his legs over the side of the couch. His hands reached down in a tired fashion, searching for his pants. 

Then his eyes snapped open and he jerked his head further over to see that his pants were gone. He glanced up at Bobby and Charlotte, oblivious to him, and told himself to keep calm. He was only pants-less in Bobby’s house whilst he’d been sleeping in the same room as Charlotte. He gulped at the idea of Bobby’s conclusion and tried to force himself a relaxed position against the back of the couch. Casually he tried to eye the floor, wondering if somehow they’d been moved whilst he’s been sleeping. But he couldn’t see them anywhere. 

“Alright,” Bobby said and Dean snapped his eyes up to watch the man with a tired expression, “I think that’s everything. Let me just go grab you some money.”  
  
When the older man disappeared up the stairs Charlotte took a seat next to Dean, a smirk on her face. He sighed, glared at her and said, “Where are they?”  
  
She shrugged her shoulders, smirk still in place, “Where’s what?” 

“My pants.” 

“What pants?” 

Dean growled and glared harder, if that was even possible. “Charlotte,” he ground out. 

She rolled her eyes and stood. “Alright Mr Cranky pants, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” she muttered. She moved behind the couch, bent down and when she came back up she was holding up his pair of jeans. They landed in his face and he snatched them away and quickly shoved them on. “People would think you can’t cope without your pants,” she remarked. 

“Maybe I just don’t want Bobby murdering me.” 

Charlotte grinned and sat back down on the couch, “But it would be funny.” 

“Not for me,” he said as he stood and zipped his jeans up. 

Bobby came down the stairs seconds later and passed over a few bills to Charlotte. “I’m cool to take my car right?” she asked as she stood.  
  
The older man sighed and said, “Just be careful with it.”  
  
“You actually finished that thing?” Dean asked, surprised. 

Charlotte turned proud eyes to Dean, “Yep. And it works too.” 

“This I gotta see,” he muttered. He ignored the eye roll she gave and followed her out back and into the salvage yard, after shoving his shoes on. It sat, gleaming underneath the morning sun. The fresh coat of dark blue paint was untouched, giving the car a new look. He whistled, impressed. “Not bad.” As he approached it he made sure to take in every small detail of it. He did admit, it was a nice looking car and her handiwork looked good. He pointed to it, “You did all of this on your own?” Charlotte nodded and opened the door. “Nice,” he said. The engine purred beautifully into life and he couldn’t help the smile that started to form on his lips. 

“You coming with me or not?” 

He turned his eyes to Bobby who stood in the doorway back into the house. The older man just waved him off, “I don’t care what you do.” 

Dean jumped into the passenger side and let his hands smooth themselves over the new looking dash, controls, stereo, everything. The only thing that was missing was the new car smell. “Nice,” he could appreciate a nice car and this, he liked it. 

“Thank you,” she beamed and the car purred as she pulled out of the yard and out onto the main roads. It was a short, not-quite ten minute drive, but he could understand her wanting to take her car out, even just for that. Then they were climbing out of the car and Charlotte was pushing a basket into his hands. She shrugged a shoulder at his glare and said, “You can make yourself useful.” 

“Whatever,” he muttered as he followed her around, his eyes taking in the goods in each aisle. He offered a wink to the few girls he did pass and even stopped on the tenth aisle to talk to a brunette called Marissa. “Well,” he’d started, “I’m just passing through town, so I’ll be around for the next couple of days only.” 

“And you’re not coming back?” 

He shrugged, managing to look upset by the idea. “And I would love to get to know you better Marissa.” He offered a playful, flirtatious smirk and she chuckled, biting her bottom lip. 

“Well,” she said, her smile stuck in place, “I’ll give you my number.” From her bag she pulled out a pen and grabbed his hand. “And you can call me.” She started writing on his hand soon he had Marissa’s number.  
  
“Oh I will,” and he winked as she giggled and turned on her toes. He continued up the aisle and stopped at the end when he found Charlotte stood there, arms folded and eyebrows rasied in accusations. “What? A guy can’t have a little fun whilst he’s out?”  
  
“Uh huh.” She dumped a large bag of rock salt into the basket and his grip on it almost slipped. He glared as he dragged it back up and she turned. “I don’t care what you do Dean. But,” she stopped walking and waited until he was next to her before she whispered, “stay away from Marissa. She’s the town slut who’s probably caught a couple of things by now.” 

He turned his head to eye her up for several long and quiet seconds before he snapped them away, his eyes frowning with a disapproving smirk. “Wow,” he said, “that is low for you.” 

She caught up to him, “Excuse me?” 

He turned, one arm outstretched and a smirk playing across his features. “You accuse _me_ of being jealous?” Then he was pointing at her. “Town slut who’s caught a couple of things? Wow.” And he turned away from her again. 

Behind his back she rolled her eyes and picked up a loaf of bread. “I don’t care what you do Dean but if you come away with a rash, that’s on you.”  
  
“And if I don’t it proves that you were lying _and_ that you were jealous.” 

“Uh huh,” she dropped the loaf into the basket, “whatever helps you sleep at night Winchester.”

 

“Jealous,” he muttered in a sing song voice. The word followed her around and several times she almost elbowed him in the gut or punched him in the arm. Many times she’d been tempted just to punch him in the face. Charlotte Dixon had little patience when it came to cocky and childish annoyances that started with ‘D’. By the time they’d paid for the stuff he had stopped singing that one word and had instead opted for walking around with w shit eating grin. 

Groceries were loaded into the car and the journey back was silent save for the radio she had playing. Dean was still smiling as they parked, unloaded the few bags and started putting the items away in the kitchen. Bobby was in the living room, talking on a phone whilst reading from several books whilst Sam was reading a textbook about the basics of law studies. He’d glanced up as they’d entered and stared at Dean whose smile didn’t seem to wane. “What’s up with you?” Sam finally asked. 

Dean just wriggled his brows and turned his smile into a grin towards Charlotte. She sighed loudly with a roll of her eyes and almost slammed a cupboard shut. “Call her. Banger her. Whatever. I don’t care.”  
  
“She’s jealous,” Dean said with a smirk. 

Sam’s brows raised themselves and he turned his amused expression to Charlotte. She scoffed and stuffed a handful of empty bags into Dean’s chest. “I’m not jealous. I’ve got nothing to be jealous about.” 

Now the sixteen year old was frowning, “What _are_ you jealous about?”  
  
“I got a girl’s number. A hot girl,” Dean said and he turned to point at the seventeen year old girl. “She tried to tell me that this Merissa girl is the town slut.”

“Well is she?” 

“Yes.” “No.” came the replies and Sam shook his head, still amused at the situation. He raised his hands and stood from the table. “I am staying out of this.” 

“ _I_ ,” Charlotte said, “am going to check that you didn’t ruin my car.” 

She glared at Dean and Sam turned his head to her and said, “It’s finished?” 

She nodded towards the back door, “Yeah come see.” 

The younger Winchester followed her out of the door and nodded his head with an approving look. “Wow that’s, that’s pretty nice.”  
  
“I know right.” 

“And you built it all by yourself?” She nodded and Sam nodded his head again. “Nice. Our Dad’s been teaching Dean about the Impala.” 

“What year is that again a 70?” 

“67,” Dean said as he stepped forward to lean against the hood of her car. “You’d know that if you actually looked at it.” 

“Whatever,” she muttered as she checked the trunk of her car. She stood there for a few moments, staring at it, squinting at the space before she slammed it shut and looked up at the two boys. “What?” 

Sam shrugged and stuck his hands into his pockets. “It’s a nice car.” He thumbed a hand over his shoulder and said, “I’m gonna go back to reading, about law.” 

“Have fun,” she called out and Sam nodded again before he scurried into the house. Dean turned a smirk in her direction and she narrowed her eyes at him. “What? What’s with the smirk?” 

“It’s been more than five year.” For several seconds she just stared at him, frown stuck in place before realisation dawned on her. “Yep,” he said with a nod, “time to pay up.”  
  
“Oh come on Dean, it’s one month!”  
  
“It’s still been five years.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Serious.” 

She sighed, hung her head and stood next to him, her arms folded over her chest. “What?” 

He opened his mouth and after a moment closed it again with a frown. “You know, I hadn’t thought about that bit.” 

Charlotte pushed away from the car, “Well better think quick. I’m gonna give you five minutes to think of something.” 

“I’m thinking!” 

She folded her arms over her chest, raised one brow and said, “You’ve got four minutes and thirty seconds.” 

He turned his eyes to her, then to her car and he stood up straight, “Let me drive it.” 

For a few seconds she stared at him. Then she moved her eyes to her car before she shook her head and met his gaze. “No.” 

“A bet is a bet,” he said. 

“I am not letting you or anybody else drive my car.” 

“Then kiss me.” 

He watched with a smirk as she recoiled at that. “What?” 

In his head he wondered where that thought had come from, but watching her squirm because of him made it worthwhile and he took a step closer to him. He was still surprised that she met him, height for height, inch for inch, and he let his smirk stay in place. “You have two choices.” He moved back and leaned back against the hood of her car, his arms supporting him. A grin was wide on his face as he said, “Either let me drive her round or kiss me.” 

The next few seconds passed in a flurry of motion but he recalled her sighing, stepping forward to grab his neck and she smashed her mouth into his for a good few second before she pushed him away, turned on her heels and left. And he’d been left stumped. Stupefied. Surprised. And moderately somewhat pleased and confused.


	15. 2001 - March

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank you all for taking the time to read this story. Don't be afraid to let me know what you think of Charlotte and her interactions with the boys. 
> 
> Please enjoy this chapter and I'll try to get another chapter out soon.

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

Charlotte had answered the door to a passive looking John, who smiled dimly at her, muttered some words about having some business in Nebraska to take care of and that he would be back within two days. Behind the man, once he'd turned to go back to his car, she could see the Winchester sons looking  _miffed_. They glared at one another and didn’t pass a word between them or to their father.

She frowned, stepped to the side and Dean stalked in first, making his way straight to the salvage yard. Not a word passed his mouth and Charlotte turned eyebrows up at Sam. He sighed, shook his head with his hands stuffed in his pockets and stalked into the house. "Upstairs," she ordered.

"What?"

"Get your ass upstairs Winchester. Then we'll talk." When Sam tried to protest she grabbed his arm and dragged up the stairs and to her room. She threw him in, closed the door, locked it and folded her arms over her chest. "Talk."

Sam clenched his jaw and turned his eyes to the window to look down at the salvage yard. "What about?"

"About the giant pissing elephant in the room! What is wrong with you two?"

He tilted his head to one side in agonised thought and ground out, "Difference of opinion."

She waited for him to elaborate and when he didn't she rolled her eyes and plopped herself across her bed, stomach down and hands underneath her chin. "About?"

And he turned, eyes burning with anger. "Dad wants me hunt. I want to go to college. I've actually applied to Stanford and guess what, I got in."

"Have you told him that?" Sam ducked his head then and she sighed. "Tell him!"

And brown puppy dog eyes were on her. "Then he'll tell me that college isn't a place for me." And he gave a sharp chuckle. "I'm eighteen years old and my Dad thinks he can control my life."

"So why's Dean pissy?"

Sam just gave her a look that spoke volumes and she quirked her brows. He elaborated. "Dean follows Dad's every command like he's God walking on water. Dean thinks that I should just give in to Dad and do what he wants like a good soldier."

Charlotte pulled herself up to sit on the edge of her bed, arms thrown back as she narrowed her eyes in thought. "So, you've applied for college, got in. You want to go but your Dad wants you to hunt. And Dean's agreeing with your Dad?"

"Yeah. So of course I'm the one that's getting the bad end of the stick."

Again she narrowed her eyes in thought and she tilted her head back for several seconds before her gaze snapped back onto him. "And you haven't told your Dad you got a place but you told Dean?" Sam ducked his head and she sighed. "You haven't told  _him_  at least?"

"He'll just say that I should focus on hunting."

She sighed, "And let me guess. You and your Dad had one of your famous arguments again just before coming here?"

"So?"

"Okay," she stood and clapped her hands together. "Let me go talk to Dean."

Sam scoffed at the idea and kicked the toe of his boots against the floor. "Fat lot of good that'll do."

"Stop being pissy," she chucked over her shoulder as she left her room and jumped down the stairs. Within seconds she was out in the salvage yard and her eyes didn't take long to find the older boy. She stopped next to him, ignored the glaring he was giving her and simply poked his ribs. "They had a fight. I get it."

Dean ducked his head with a bitter chuckle. "No you don't."

She turned staring eyes on Dean and said. "They argued. You're stuck in the middle trying to make peace with each side. I get it."

Any humour he had was gone and he shook his head. "No. You understand it. But you don't get it." She opened her mouth to reply when he turned and stopped just inches from her. "Whilst those two knuckle heads fight it out I'm the one who has to try to keep the peace and pick up the pieces. I'm the one who goes ignored. Whenever they've argued and Sam's walked out, all I hear is Dad talking about how Sammy's a pain in the ass but a good son. All of my life I have been trying to be the good son, do as my Dad says, make him proud, and even when Sam's pitching a fit, he's still Dad's favourite."

For several seconds nothing was said and neither of them blinked or moved. Then Charlotte pushed herself off the car she had been leaning on and turned her eyes on him. "No parent has favourites."

"Our Dad does."

"Or maybe he's concerned that something will happen to him. Every parent worries about their children."

Dean shook his head and stepped back. "Not like this."

She sighed and folded her arms over her chest. "So why can't Sammy go to Stanford?"

"Because-" and he turned on her, eyes wide and panicked as he searched for words. "Because."

She shook her head at him, "Because of what?"

He opened his mouth to answer, closed it, tried again and shook his head before his eyes narrowed. He waved a hand at her, "Why do you even care?"

"Because." And she left it at that, a slight smirk begging to be released across her features.

After a moment Dean let out a single laugh and ducked his head. "You're a pain in the ass. You know that right?"

She nodded, smile. "Yep. Now get up there, tell Sam that you're not angry with him that whatever he decides you're happy with. At the moment he feels alone, an outcast."

"And what if I'm not?"

She rolled her eyes and said, "He got into Stanford and to be honest, he should be there now. But he's not. For you. For your Dad. He's here with you."

Then Dean was frowning. "Why didn't he tell me?"

"Because he feels like you're on the same page with your Dad."

And he was clenching his jaw and ducking his head. "He can't go," he said.

"Give me, give  _him_  a damned good reason why not."

And when he lifted his eyes to answer her anger fell. His eyes were down and his face was fallen. There was a look in his eyes that had her wanting to comfort him. "I can't. But he can't leave, he-" he ran a hand over his face and fixed the breaking his voice was ready to take on. "He can't. Okay? Can we just, leave it?"

"Fine, alright, whatever, just don't go crying on me."

Dean laughed and fixed his face of any indication that he’d looked ready to break. "I wasn't gonna cry."

"No?" and she was smiling. "Sure looked like you were ready to."

"Say that again I'll kill you."

"Noted," and her smile widened. "Can you and Sammy just you know, apologise and make up already?"

Dean sighed and shrugged. He opened his mouth to say something but she held her hand up to turn and head back to the house. Her feet took her up the stairs and back into her room. "What'd he say?"

"He asked why you hadn't told him you'd gotten into Stanford?"

Sam seemed to balk at that. "You told him?"

"What?" she shrugged, her arms out, "Somebody had to."

Sam sighed and seemed to calm himself. "What else did he say?"

She shrugged again. "He loves you. He wasn't trying to take sides. He doesn't want you to leave. Erm…"she tilted her eyes up to the ceiling in thought. "That sometimes  _he_  feels like you and your Dad ignore him. More pointedly when you argue. He loves you."

"You already said that."

She shrugged again and smiled up at him. "If I know Dean, he's… happy, that you got into Stanford. I'd bet money on it."

"Funny how he shows it."

"Dean portrays his emotions has elegantly as a fat kid on a treadmill."

Sam pulled a face at her and after a few seconds gave a minute shrug and a vague nod. "Yeah, I, guess so. H- how did you come to that analogy?"

She waved him away with a shake of her head, "Too much daytime television."

Again he was pulling a face at her before he shook any thoughts away. "Uh huh."

"Just, go apologise. I told him to apologise. And I swear I'll make you both apologise and act like brothers if it kills me."

That seemed to turn the man's mouth up and he nodded with a slight laugh. "Yeah, I, I know."

"Good. Now get out of my room and go make up with your brother."

Sam got to the door before his lanky frame turned to point at her. "For future reference, can you try to not make me and my brother sound like a gay couple."

"Nope. I'm gonna make you as gay as I want to."

Sam let a half sigh and half laugh loose before he shook his head opened the door. He stopped again to turn and say, "Hey, Charlotte?"

She followed him to the door turned her eyes up at him, "Yes?"

"Thanks. It's nice to just, get things out there."

She tilted her head to one side with a tight smile and placed her hand against his cheek. "Sammy," she ignored the sigh he gave, "You two are the biggest pains in the asses I have ever met. And I love you both somehow. So, whilst I am being kind," she gently tapped her hand against his cheek, "you're welcome." And she slapped his cheek just a little harder. "Now go before I kick your ass down those stairs."

Whilst he chuckled and left out back she settled herself in the living room, flicking through the TV channels. Five minutes later they both walked in and sat down on opposite sides of her. "All good?"

The boys shared a look, a smirking, knowing look and she frowned. "Oh we're good," Sam said. And both boys let their hands fly at her sides to tickle her. Her shrieks only made them tickle harder as she slipped off the couch and onto the floor, trying to push them away.

"Stop it! This is abuse!"

"Yeah well," Dean said. "Deal with it." And he launched into another assault on the nineteen year old. Bobby returned from a supply run to find all three on the floor of his living room. They paused to look up at him.

"Idjits," he said before he left them to it and moved to the kitchen where Charlotte's shrieks of laughter followed him.


	16. 2002 - September

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

It was only once she’d turned the radio off and cut the engine to her car that Charlotte could hear the argument behind the closed door of the house and the loud thump of metal on metal. With a frown she closed the car door, grabbed her bag and locked the car. Her usual route was directed around back as she slung her bag over her shoulders and stepped around the house.

The banging was louder and she narrowed her eyes to try to seek the answer of the noise. She had to travel through a few rows before she found the source: Dean, and a crowbar, hitting an unfortunate car.

And he looked pissed.

She approached him cautiously, her hands feeling awkward as she wondered what she was going to do when she was closer. He was cursing, muttering to himself and doing bad impressions, that much she could tell as she edged closer. And he was giving the car a good whack. "Dean?" she said softly.

The twenty three year old stopped and stared at her, the crowbar hanging in his hands between his legs. The look on his face fell from anger to shock in an instant. Then he was clenching his jaw, tightening his grip on the crowbar and ducking his eyes. "What?” His head turned to eye the car up.

"What's it done to you?" Charlotte said.

The corners of his mouth twisted up without his approval at her words, just for a second. Then his features were schooled and he remembered why he was beating on the poor car in the first place. "Sam left."

He could feel her feet stop and could feel the shock radiate from her. "What?"

He sighed, let the crowbar hang in his grasp again and flicked his eyes up. She stood, her hands curled around the strap of her bag, clenching it so tight that he could see her knuckles begin to turn white. "Sam left for college. All the way to Stanford." And he struck the car with the crowbar once more.

She was in his vision in the next second, putting her hands on his arms, "Okay, so beating up a defenceless car makes it better?"

"Yes."

She titled her head, an awkward grimace on her expression and sighed. She let herself lean back against the battered metal frame and she let her hands fall to his. "Dean, is it really that bad that he left? I mean, everyone knew he wanted to go to college right?"

Dean scoffed. He stepped away, crowbar still in his hands and said, "Don't get me wrong I'm proud for the guy. Really."

"Doesn't sound like it."

He glared at her and hung his head for several seconds before his attention snapped back to her. The crowbar was held up in one hand, pointed back to the house. "He left me with _him_. Okay. I have done my best to be the good son, following orders and now, I'm alone with him. What? Sam thinks I want to follow him around forever? I don't! And you know what's worse?" He stepped closer and stopped inches from her. "I feel like nothing I do will ever make him happy! Nothing!" He punched the metal next to her and she flinched. "And I'm the one who has to deal with that."

She fixed her eyes on him, glared at him and pushed him back from her. "Come on Dean. I know it's a shock and everything but, you know, we- we should be happy for the guy!"

And he was back to glaring. "I am! But I'm also pissed! He's out there doing whatever the fucking hell he wants and I'm stuck with Dad.” His face had fallen from anger to disbelief and he slumped against the opposite car, dropped the crowbar and slid down the vehicle until he was sat on the floor.

"Remember last year," Charlotte said as she moved to join him on the floor. "When you told me you didn't want Sam to leave? And you didn't tell me why?" His eyes were on her, still reeling in pain from his brother leaving him. "Why?"

For several seconds his mouth tried to work but didn’t make any noise. Then he closed his mouth, clenched his jaw and turned his gaze away from her. "Because  _now_ , I feel alone."

She punched his arm without delay. "Ow!" His eyes snapped to her. "What was that for?" Her eyebrows were up and she stared at him. Then punched his arm again. "Ow! Stop it!"

"You got me. You got Bobby. And Sam's only one phone call away. Stop acting like it's the end of the world you pissing drama queen." The twenty year old got to her feet, put her hands on her hips and stared down at him. "You gonna sit there all night or do I have to drag your ass inside?"

He stared up at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Anyone ever tell you you're a bit of a bitch?"

"Anyone ever tell you you're a bit of a dick?"

For several seconds he simply looked up at her, considering her words, then tilted his head to one side. "Fair point."

And a hand appeared in his vision. He took it and she helped pull him to his feet. She slapped his chest with the back of her hand as she walked past, "Come on, Bobby will give us a beer or two."

"Yeah sure," he said.

She stopped after a moment, turned, folded her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. "What did happen for Sam to suddenly leave anyway?"

Dean sighed and scratched at the back of his neck. "The same thing that always happens. Only this time Sam might not be coming back." For five silent seconds she stared at him, her face unreadable, then she punched his arm for the third time that night. "Can you stop hitting me already!"

"What do you mean he might not come back? Don't you think you should've mentioned that earlier?" And she punched his arm again. He grabbed her arm, pulled on it and threw it away with a glare.

"Dad said, and I quote, 'If you walk out that door don't you come back.' And guess what? He left!"

"Oh, Jesus Christ!" She sighed and stared at Dean. "Your Dad's an idiot."

His eyes were on her again and he pointed at her, "Careful what you say."

She held her hands up and turned back to continue her walk to the house. "Let's just grab some beer and talk about, I don't know, sports? Football? Women? Car porn?"

"Car porn?"

She turned a smirk over her shoulder. "What?"

"Is that even a thing?"

She shrugged, "You'd know," and turned back to the house. Dean was following her and she waved to John, kissed Bobby on the cheek and muttered something about going changing into pyjamas. "Just watch some TV or something," she said to Dean as she passed him on her way up the stairs.

Her bag was dumped in the corner of her room and she quickly changed clothes and threw herself across her bed, phone in hand. Sam's number was already on the screen and she called it. Several rings passed and when she didn't think he was going to answer he picked up, "Hello?"

"You didn't call Sam."

He sighed. "Charlotte."

"I get it. You've always wanted to go to college and study law. And I get that your Dad's a bit of a dick."

"Yeah."

"But you should've called."

"Sorry." There were voices in the background and she narrowed her eyes. "I should probably get going."

"Don't you dare hang up on me mister."

He sighed again and said, "Look, Charlotte, I get it. I should've called. I'm sorry. But you have my number right?"

"Am I allowed to visit?"

She could hear the unsure smirk in his voice, "You'd want to visit a college?"

A shrug. "I hear that college students are supposed to be fine as hell. Are you in Stanford yet?"

"Yeah, I erm, I got in last night."

"I have one question before you leave."

A frown in his words. "Okay. Shoot."

"Are the boys easy on the eyes?"

A smirking eye roll. "Whatever."

"Hey! I'm visiting. I don't care what you say."

"Yeah? Just don't cause any trouble okay?"

"Can't promise that Sammy."

"It's Sam."

"Whatever tall and lanky."

"You done?"

"Sure."

"Okay," he said. "I really should be going."

"See you around."

"Yeah, bye."

"See you." And a dial tone reached her ear. She sighed and shoved her phone onto the desk by her bed. When she made her way downstairs again John and Bobby were talking and drinking beer and whiskey in the kitchen. Dean had a beer in his hands and there was another with her name on it. On the couch she dropped next to Dean and grabbed the beer from him. "You know I had to park out front right?"

He turned a frown towards her. "What?"

She picked up the TV remote and started flicking through the channels, "Normally I park around back but you guys just had to take up all the room."

He let a faint laugh go and sighed. "Yeah well, I still think my Dad's car's better than yours."

"Get out you heathen."

He chuckled and took a swig of his beer as Jurassic Park started to play. "I'm just being honest."

She narrowed her eyes at the screen and smirked up at him. "Whatever." And she let the frown drop and pulled her feet up underneath herself, the beer bottle propped against her leg.


	17. 2002 - September part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you to everybody who's reading this and I hope you enjoy a bit of dirty smut in this chapter.

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

John had gone out for a few hours, to get some space and to clear his head. At half one in the morning Bobby told the other two he was turning in whilst the sun was still down.

Dean slouched into the couch. Charlotte waited until Bobby's bedroom door closed before she stepped into the kitchen and reached up into a cupboard that Dean had never seen opened before. She pulled back a pack of beer and nodded her head upstairs. He followed her back to her room where she placed the pack down onto the desk that sat next to her bed. Two cans were released, pried open and one was shoved into his hands as he closed the door. He eyed the can with both brows raised and said, "More beer?"

Charlotte took a swig from her own can and shrugged. "If you don't want it?"

"No, no," he said, finally coming into the room. "But won't Bobby notice?"

"Hence why it was in that cupboard. He doesn't use it." At his blank expression she rolled her eyes. "Personal stash."

That made him quirk his brows. "And you're sharing your stash with me? Your secret stash?" Again she rolled her eyes and Dean shook his head, "No, no, I'm honoured."

"Yeah well you looked like a kid who'd just been told his dog ran away."

"And you are aware that you just referred to Sammy as a dog right?"

Charlotte paused, can halfway to her mouth and eyes fixed on a half arsed smirking Dean. Two seconds passed before she shrugged with her own smirk, "He does do that puppy dog look with his eyes though."

Dean chuckled. Charlotte pulled herself onto the far side of her bed, legs tucked underneath her, feet dangling over the edge. Dean shook away his jacket, kicked off his boots and stretched himself along the other side. "I know what look you're talking about. When we were younger he used to use  _that_  look to get whatever he wanted."

"And it worked?" her eyes were on his.

He turned to her, "Every damn time. I hated that look." He almost brought the can to his lips but pointed it at her to say, "I still hate it."

She laughed and kicked her own shoes off to stretch them out before her. Her eyes were fixed on her feet, not much smaller than Dean's. "I feel bad for you."

His smirk was on her faster than a dog chasing a cat. "Does this sympathy grant me any special favours?" She punched his arm and he laughed. "I was kidding."

"Sure Winchester, whatever you say."

He paused, mid drink to eye her up. "Okay, what's that supposed to mean?"

"What's what supposed to mean?" she mimicked back.

Dean shook his head, turned and placed his drink on her desk next to the bed, "No, no, we are  _not_  having one of those arguments. You are not doing  _that_."

"Doing what?" she said with a smirking shrug.

He narrowed his eyes at and simply asked again, "So what was the whole," and in a terrible imitation of her voice said, "'Sure Winchester, whatever you say.'"

She chuckled at that and turned to put her beer on the floor, "One," she turned back, one finger held up. "I do not sound like some kind of whiny thirteen year old girl." By now she had turned her body to face him. "Two, you know  _exactly_  what I mean Casanova."

He winked at that, "I must be doing something right."

She slapped his arm. "Are you ever serious?"

"Nope."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course not. And three, of course  _you'd_  turned anything innocent into some sort of lewd comment."

Again he winked. "That's me." He saw the hand coming this time and moved to reach up and grab it before it hit him. He grinned at her and groaned when she twisted to hit him in another spot. He caught that wrist too and he grinned a shit eating grin. "What are you going to do now princess?"

She pulled a face, jerked at him and he was able to push her away. The twenty year old girl growled in annoyance, smirk still bright on her face, and resorted to trying to pull herself free.

After a few playful tugs she yanked at him. The sudden and unexpected force had him following her movements, his body falling across her chest and Dean took a second to recover, all air gone from his lungs. He lifted himself up enough to pull his face away from her neck to look at her, worried. He knew he wasn't the lightest person in the world and his full weight across her chest wasn't going to be too nice. "You okay?"

She gave a single cough before she nodded and turned her head to face him, "I'm fine." Then she opened her eyes and they landed on his in a narrow frown. He copied her expression and found himself frozen in that position, just staring. He could feel his breathing slow and watched as she fluttered her eyes at him innocently. His jeans twitched, the heat coming from her body was strong and he could feel her chest against his. At that very moment, his body just about poised above hers, he hated the hormones still kicking around his system.

He crashed his lips to her mouth and let his body fall atop hers. After a few seconds she responded. Her mouth worked against his, drawing him further in with the tug on his shirt her hand gave. Dean forced one hand underneath the fabric of her shirt and smiled greedily against her lips at the slight jerk her body gave from the touch.

The kisses grew hungrier and Dean worked his mouth down her neck as the fingers underneath her shirt stroked the underside of her breast. She twitched and he grinned against her neck.

Fingers searched higher, finding their desired target and he gently squeezed her nipple. She responded with stilted breathing and a jerk against his body. His head pulled away to grin down at her, triumphant as he pulled on it again. "Shut up," she managed with a lopsided grin before she was pulling him back down. One of his legs pushed its way between hers and he let his other hand find her other breast and nipple. She jerked again and she pulled on his bottom lip.

He couldn't help the chuckle. When she gave another jerk, igniting a quiet moan that quickly died in the back of her throat, he growled into the kiss and pushed his body against hers.

Her hands fumbled with his shirt, pulling it up and Dean straddled her leg to pull it off and chuck it to one side. She made a come hither gesture with her fingers and Dean only tugged on the bottom of her shirt. "Fair is fair." And she was rolling her eyes and pulling herself up to him. He pulled her shirt over her head, threw that away. He almost yelped as she yanked him down with knotted fingers behind his neck.

Mouths clashed and Dean's hands grabbed both breasts and gently squeezed as his hips pushed into hers. She responded and he squeezed harder, pushed harder until her hands on his waist and her legs around his forced him onto his back.

Now she was straddling him and he could not tell what the look in her eye meant. Then she was kissing his mouth, his cheek, his jaw, his neck and working her way down. When she reached his jeans she unbuttoned, unzipped and tugged on both jeans and boxers. Soon they were both gone and he was naked.

When he tilted his head to see what she was doing a hand pushed on his chest and he was flat against the bed. A few curious seconds passed before he jerked at the hot mouth that wrapped itself around his member. "Oh Jesus," he ground out through gritted teeth and the smirk that lit itself around him made him twitch again. He titled his head to see what exactly it was she was doing, but a hand pushed him back down and had him writing beneath her.

As the seconds dragged themselves by he dropped curses and fisted his hands into the bed sheets. Her tongue circled the top of his member, worked its way up and down as did her mouth with different pressures that had him jerking beneath her. As the seconds dragged out and pleasure reached a critical level where he was ready to burst, she pulled away and Dean pried lust filled eyes open to see a shit eating grin staring down at him. "Come here," he ordered huskily and he grabbed the back of her head to crash his mouth against hers.

Charlotte fell against him and he used this surprise to his advantage. He forced her onto her back, one hand pulling on the pyjama bottoms. They were quickly discarded along with her underwear and Dean let a hand trail lazily down her body. Across her breasts, over her stomach, past her sensitive nethers and slowly he traced lines up and down the inside of her thigh. Each stroke worked its way closer and closer to her centre, each one making her twitch with anticipation and expectation.

He grinned and as he let two fingers slide over her nub, making her jerk against him, he placed his mouth around her nipple and tugged. Wetness grew around his fingers and he slipped both of his fingers inside of her. The jerk and the heavy breathing had him grinning.

He worked up a pace, quick, short thrusts of his fingers followed by slow crawls against her nub and inside of her. It was her turn to writhe underneath him.

He placed his mouth against her neck and worked up to her mouth as he pushed harder inside of her, rubbing his thumb over her nub as he did so. She moaned into him and he smiled at the whisper of his name against his mouth. He pulled away, grabbed his jeans, his wallet, the condom inside, slipped it on and threw himself back above her, his legs between hers.

For a few moments he paused, green eyes fixed on her blue ones and he questioned her with silent eyes. Her hands around his arms pulled him down and he slowly pushed himself inside of her. He gave her a few seconds to adjust before she nodded.

He started slow, thrusting gently in and out. When she pushed herself against him, mouth on his neck, he worked faster, arms working their way underneath her to hold her tight. The alternation of her breathing against his neck had him forcing himself deeper with each quick thrust. As he worked up a pace a series of moans were escaping her mouth.

He silenced her with his mouth on hers as he continued, groaning as he did so. He could feel himself getting there, ready, and he forced one hand between their bodies to rub her centre. She rocked beneath him one final time, throwing her head back as she clenched around him. He thrusted three more times before he joined her in ecstasy.

His face fell to the hollow of her neck as they relaxed, letting their breathing ease. As his heart calmed he pulled himself free with a single roll and let himself finish the wave of euphoria. Once the high was down he threw his feet over the edge of the bed, heard movement behind him and disposed of the condom.

Dean pulled himself free to clean up and when he got back into bed Charlotte was facing away from him, already tucked underneath the bed sheets. He pulled himself in, lay down behind her and waited to see what she would do or say.

His heart pounded as the silence stretched, wondering if they'd taken a wrong step. He had the sinking feeling that the euphoria in his gut was short lived and resigned himself for the put down.

Then she shuffled closer, her back still to him. He shuffled towards her and she shuffled again, placing her back against his chest. One arm slung itself over her waist, pulled her tight against his chest and Dean nuzzled the back of her neck with his nose.

Sleep wasn't far behind and he slept with a content smile on his face.

 


	18. 2002 - September part 3

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls  
_

He woke with a frown. The space next to him was empty and the only clothes he could find on the floor were his. The pit of worry started to ache in his stomach again and doubt clawed its way up his throat. A lump wormed its way there and he swallowed it back to get out of bed and get dressed. After a few deep breaths to calm the worry he plastered a passive expression onto his face and stepped out. 

When he reached the bottom of the stairs both John and Bobby were talking out back, their voices raised enough to let Dean know that it was the start of a disagreement. But their voices were quickly lowering themselves again. 

And that’s when he could hear the distinctive sound of her car pulling up out front. Shoving his hands into his pockets he tried to ignore the pain growing inside him and plastered on a curious expression when she entered. Two bags were perched in her hands and he followed her into the kitchen. “Where’d you disappear to?”

“We needed groceries,” she added, eyes fixed on the cupboards. 

He nodded to the back of her head. “You know you could’ve asked. I’d have come with.” 

“I’m good.” 

And he frowned. Whoever said that ignorance was bliss was a complete moron in his records. “Are we?” 

She glanced at him then, mouth pulled into a thin line and she said, “Yep.” She turned back to the groceries she was putting away, working her way through the second bag. 

As more seconds stripped themselves away with the awkwardness Dean was standing in, he sighed. “I’m sorry?” 

She’d finished putting things away now and turned, pushed her body back against the counter and narrowed her eyes just a fraction of an inch. “For what?” 

His hands were out by his sides, “You tell me!” 

Charlotte’s expression darkened then and she ducked her head, folded her arms and sighed. More silence pressed itself close around Dean and it made him itch with irritation. “Can we agree that last night was just sex? Nothing else? That nothing like that will happen again?” 

It took a few seconds for his brain to process what she asking but he shrugged his shoulders and said, “Okay?” 

“Good,” and she turned to open the fridge. “Glad we’re on the same page.” 

“So,” he said after she’d grabbed a beer and had already opened it, a swig already gone. He put his hands up between them and waved them at her, “We’re good?” and he was pointing between them. “Right? I mean, it’s out of our system right?” 

And she was rolling her eyes at him. “I thought you were used to one nights.” 

He narrowed his eyes at her, stuffed his hands into his pockets and felt his gut loosen. “Are you implying I’m some kind of fiend?” 

“Yep.” 

“Uh huh,” he said. As his mouth worked itself open to answer her back the older hunters could be heard yelling and shouting at each other. Both children turned their narrowed eyes from each other to the back door and back to one another in silent questions. They each shrugged their shoulders. “So,” he said again. 

And Charlotte was rolling her eyes. “Yes. We’re cool. Bring it up again and I’ll break your neck.” 

Dean narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re such a pleasant person you know that right?” 

She gave a single shrug and smirked, “Only to the people I hate.” 

It took him a few moments to get past the blunt comment, but he realised she didn’t mean it entirely that way and his mouth was smirking back. “Me too.” 

John Winchester took that moment to storm into the house, an irate Bobby on his heels. Dean and Charlotte spared each other another look before the sound of a shotgun being cocked halted any conversation and thoughts. They turned to see Bobby wielding the gun, aimed at John’s chest. “Get out John, and don’t you dare set foot in my house again.” 

Both children looked from one man and to the other, mouth agape in shock and eyes wide in panic. John seemed calm and after a few silent seconds he simply said, “Let’s go Dean.” 

“Y-Yeah” he managed and he turned, offered Charlotte a grimaced half smile and she offered one back. “Bye,” he said meekly, trying to ignore the growing pain in his stomach that whatever his Dad had said or done meant there wouldn’t be a chance in hell of him seeing either Bobby or Charlotte for the unforeseeable future. It made him want to question and interrogate his Dad, but he couldn’t. The older man would tell him it’s none of his business and pretend that nothing was wrong. 

“Yeah,” she said. When Dean had closed the door, his face far from happy, she turned to Bobby, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of her jeans. “What was that about?” 

Bobby lowered the gun with a heavy sigh and shook his head. “Nothing for you to worry about kid.” 

“Bobby,” she said with an air of irritance and the man snapped his eyes down at her. “What the hell was that?”

 

There was conflict in the older man’s eyes. Uncomfortable conflict and she could see the asking for her to drop the subject. The stubborn twenty year old folded her arms over her chest and glared at him. “As I said Charlotte, nothing to concern yourself with.” 

“Well I’m concerned Bobby.” 

“Charlotte,” he ground out. “Drop it.” 

She left her eyes on him for a few more seconds before she turned on her heels. “Fine.” And she went straight upstairs, closed and locked her door, threw herself onto her bed and scowled into the pillow she grabbed and wrapped against her chest. One foot tapped against the other and she felt confusion and anger growing in her chest. Her Dad was gone. Sam had left. Dean was gone. She didn’t count on seeing any of them in the near future and felt the salty sting of tears begin to burn the corner of her eyes. She knew Bobby wasn’t getting any younger and hated the fact that in two days everyone had left. 

Everyone she could talk to about anything had left or were gone and she hated the empty hole that was beginning to carve its way into her stomach. The tears started to fall and she reached out for her phone, scrolled down until she found Sam’s number and pressed dial. Stomping down on the snivelling it didn’t take long for the tall Winchester to answer. “Sam?” 

The breaking of her voice had his frown enter his words. “Charlotte? What’s wrong? Did Dean do something?” 

She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her at that comment and shook her head. “No. I’m, I’m fine.” 

“Sure,” he stretched out. “And I’m having loving conversations with my Dad. Now what’s wrong?” 

Another chuckle. “I just, I just wanted to hear your voice.” 

“Do I have to call Dean? What’s happened?” 

She sighed and said, “Nothing Sam, just your Dad being a dick.” 

Sam scoffed, “What else is new?”

She laughed at that and felt her grip on the pillow loosening. “How’s college?”


	19. 2003 - November

_Utah – Elk Ridge  
_

Dean tapped his fingers to the tune of _Black Sabbath’s_ Paranoid whilst his vocal cords performed their personal rendition of it in time to the lyrics. “Make a joke and I will sigh and you will laugh and I will cry!” Valley Inn Motel glared down at him with a flashing _Vacancy_ sign that had Dean turning into the parking lot of the motel. He shut the engine off, killed the music along with it and checked his wallet for the credit card he was using this time. Frederick Micksfend. When he stepped out of his Dad’s Impala, _mine now_ , he let the air wash over him and ruffle his tufts of brown-blonde hair. This was his third solo hunt. Solo. Alone. The man in charge. 

He smiled. Not having his Dad down his neck always put him in a good mood. 

Poltergeist. Right. He booked a room, dumped his bags and rifled through the numerous ID’s that sat in the glove compartment. The Poltergeist was at a school. Had put several students in the hospital with broken bones, mental breakdowns, fractured, bloodied and bruised. It was violent and it wasn’t letting up. Its latest victim had been chased through a second storey window and was now in a coma. Outcome unlikely. 

First order of business, he decided to pay some of the earlier patients a visit. Many one of them had already been discharged, some were still in the hospital and others had moved out, away from the nightmares. 

The first patient, a thirteen year old girl, had moved away after being taunted with “crazy” and “freak” for weeks. The second moved out of fear of going back to that school. The third was a sixteen year old boy by the name of James Birkowisck. A local directory search and map checking had him rolling up outside the house just twenty minutes later. 

He checked his reflection, smoothed out the leather jacket and his hair and knocked on the door. It opened to a woman who looked to be in her mid-forties. He smiled, held up the County Sheriff’s badge with a smile. “Ma’am, I’m Ted Nugent with the County Sheriff’s department. I’ve been told that your son experienced traumatic events at his school. Is that correct?” 

“Ye- Yeah.” She paused, mouth poised open to go on when her brows furrowed. “I’m sorry, what does this have to do with the Sheriff’s department?” 

“Well,” Dean tried, mind working quickly, “we’ve had similar reports come in from a number of different schools. I figured I’d check it out, see if it’s some kid pulling pranks or something more sinister.” 

“Look,” she pushed a glance over her shoulder and inched closer to the threshold he stood on, “I’ve already talked to the FBI, an agent Susan Meriden, and they’ve already questioned my son. Please, he’s suffered enough.” 

Dean nodded with a tight smile. “Of course, I’m sorry Ma’am. I won’t bother you any longer. Enjoy your day.”

He reached his car with a frown. Kids seeing ghosts weren’t a federal case. Jurisdiction lines hadn’t been crossed and nobody had died yet. His phone was out as he leaned against the driver’s side of the Impala. Bobby’s name stared back at him and he sighed. It had been a year since he’d seen or heard anything from the older man. He was thankful Charlotte called him up every now and again. But it wasn’t anything compared to the man himself. His jaw tightened and with a final sigh he dialled the number. “Hello?” 

“Bobby? It’s Dean.” 

“Everything okay kid?”

“Yeah, no, everything’s fine, just.” He ran a hand over his face with a sigh. “I’m on a case, without Dad and I think there’s another hunter already here. I was wondering if you knew them.” 

“What’s the name?” 

“Erm,” he racked his brain for what the mother had said, “FBI agent Meridian? I think?” 

And Bobby was chuckling. “Susan Meriden. That’s Charlotte that.” Dean snapped his head up, eyes fixed on the bottom step of the house he’d just left. “I’ll give her a call and give her a heads up.” 

“Thanks Bobby, it’s great to hear from you.”

“You too boy, just don’t leave it for a year next time.” 

“Yes Sir,” Dean said with a flicker of a smile. 

He hung up and decided to grab a bite to eat whilst he waited for, for whatever. If the older man was going to call him, Charlotte or his Dad with some idea. He climbed back into his car and was pulling up in front of _Jo’s Diner_ just seconds later. He ordered a double cheeseburger and fries along with a black coffee soon they were in front of him and he was grinning. Just as he’d wrapped his hands around the burger his phone started to ring. For several seconds he contemplated just letting it go to answer phone but he sighed, dumped his burger onto his place and fished his phone out in front of him. “Yeah?” 

“Nice to hear from you too Dean.” 

“Charlotte.” 

“No the Easter Bunny.” 

He frowned at the phone. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” 

There was a sigh on the other end and he swore he could hear her shaking her head. “Nothing. So Bobby says you’re in Utah.” 

“Jo’s diner. You know it?” 

“I’ll be there in five.” He closed his phone, eyed his burger with lust and wrapped his hands back around it. The first bite was glorious. The second fantastic and Dean found himself two minutes away from moaning in ecstasy. It had been days of driving on the road with nothing but service station snacks to fill his stomach. Being able to sit down and eat a burger brought about some of the best satisfaction he’d had in a long while. 

The door slid open and he glanced his eyes up out of idle curiosity. Green eyes strayed back to the burger for the briefest of moments before they jumped back up to the figure who’d just entered. A year surely couldn’t have changed her _that_ much could it? The very hip hugging dark jeans had his imagination running already. The curve following, accentuating t-shirt she wore had his mind working overtime, imagining, _remembering_ the contours of her body that the charcoal well-fitting grey jacket hid. 

It took all of his willpower to remind himself it had been a year and to not eye her up with a smirk. There was a frown on her expression as she sat down across from him, pulling his plate of fries towards herself. One potato stick was tossed into her mouth, “So where’s John? Don’t you two usually hunt together?”

“Solo hunt baby.” He grinned as he retook his plate back. 

Charlotte rolled her eyes and stole another fry. “And he’s where?” 

“Illinois on some personal business. I don’t know.” Her hand worked its way back to his plate and he pushed it away, “Get your own.” 

She rolled her eyes again, this time, the corners of her mouth turned up. “So how’ve you been Dean?” 

“Same old same old,” and he grabbed his coffee with a frown. “Since when did Bobby let you hunt on your own?” 

“Since I’m twenty one and it’s a simple salt and burn.” 

He nodded and the waitress, a very easy on the eyes woman who knew what assets she had, came back with a hot pot of coffee. “Refill?” 

The smile he gave back, the smile that had most women eating out of the palm of his hand, worked like a charm. “Yes please,” his eyes strayed to the name badge that sat too close to the cleavage on show, “Tiffany.”  
“My pleasure Mr?” 

“Nugent, Ted Nugent.” 

She seemed to giggle and he ignored the minor shaking of her head Charlotte was doing. “Well Mr Nugent, if you need anything else, _anything_ at all, let me know.” The waitress turned to Charlotte and said, “Can I get you anything?” 

“I’m good,” she said. She waited until she was out of earshot before she leaned towards Dean and said, “Seriously?”  
“What?” Dean said. “It’s not my fault women get attracted to me.” 

“Uh huh.” She nabbed his plate, leaned back and pulled it with her. “Go follow her. Get her number. I know you want to.” 

“We’re on the job Charlotte.” The woman across from him just let her brows reach towards her hairline with a knowing smirk. After a few seconds of staring he started. “I’ll be right back.” 

“Dog,” she whispered with a shake of her head and her smirk still in place, making quick work of his fries and his coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you to everyone who's reading this ^^ it won't be long before we start on season 1, I promise.


	20. 2003 - November part 2

_Utah – Elk Ridge  
_

Two hours of library searching later and the two hunters left with a possible name. James Franks. A student whose body had been found horribly mutilated beyond recognition in an abandoned classroom on the third floor. Whilst Dean went in search of burial records Charlotte went back to the Police station to see what they had. 

The police had told her that a teacher had gone past the school on that night to see a light still on. He stopped, called the police and took a look around when he heard a scream. Inside he found the boy battered, bloodied and almost dead. As he’d heard the ambulance he’d seen a group of kids hopping the fence. Nothing could tie any kids in particular to the poor boys murder however. 

To pass the time they decided to grab some dinner from Jo’s Diner again. Charlotte had said she would meet him there once she checked up with Bobby. He only waved her away and pulled up to the diner. Tiffany was still on shift and when he sat down in the same booth as before she sauntered over with a cup and a half empty coffee pot. “Coffee?” 

“Thank you Tiffany,” he said as he grabbed the cup. 

“So where’s your girlfriend?” 

It took him a moment to realise she was talking about Charlotte. “Ooh, she’s not my girlfriend. We’re just friends.”  

“Really?” she drawled. 

He grinned purposely up at her. He knew where this was going and he couldn’t argue with it. “Yeah,” and he was nodding to the seat opposite him with a smile. 

When Charlotte arrived at the diner she rolled her eyes when she spotted Dean. “Men,” and she took a seat at the counter and ordered coffee, a BLT with a small stack of pancakes on the side. There was a guy two seats down who turned surprised eyes over at her. “Fast metabolism,” she said. 

He chuckled. “You didn’t have to explain yourself.” 

She smiled kindly at him. “It was either explain myself or look fat.” Then she frowned. “I probably still look a little fat.” Again the man chuckled and that was when her coffee arrived. “Thanks.”  
  
“If it’s any consolation I’d find it hard to find any fat on you.” 

She snorted. “You use that pick up line a lot?” The guy’s next words seemed to halt on his tongue and she grinned at him. “I’m Laura.” 

“Patrick,” he said holding his hand out. As her food came they talked and she could feel eyes growing on her back. By the time she’d finished her meal Patrick had bid her farewell, being sure to leave his number with her. 

Dean took a seat next to her. “Who’s your boyfriend?”  
  
“Jealous?” 

“Pfft.” He checked his watch and clapped his hands together. “We’ve got a couple of hours to burn so I’m going to go… you know…” 

“Fuck?” 

His eyes snapped to hers and after a moment he shrugged. “I’ll meet you at the school.” And he left then with a wink and a grin on his face. She spent her next few hours reading the book she’d bought in the last town. It was almost finished which meant that she could grab a new one. By the time midnight was closing in, a decent enough time to get enough work done and get back without being noticed, her phone was already ringing. “Which room are you even in?” 

“Five. You done?” 

“Yep.”  
  
“She good?”  
  
“Oh yeah.” And her door knocked and the phone was a single tone. She rolled her eyes, abandoned her book on her bed, unlocked the door and grabbed the duffle bag from the bottom of her bed. “You ready to go then?” 

Within minutes they were out of their rooms and in the Impala, the colour making it more conspicuous in the dark, heading straight for the school. By twelve they were entering the school and had shotguns ready and waiting. The first floor had been cleared and the second floor was where they spotted another cabinet, the first five having contained trophies and rewards. “I hope it’s here or I’m gonna blow the friggin’ things head off!” 

Charlotte rolled her eyes and swung her torch and gun in front of the glass. “You’re in luck.” She dropped her gun to her side, shuffled the glass door to the side and grabbed the locket. 

As her hand closed around the locket something pulled her into the opposite classroom, cracking through the wooden door. The locket flew from her hands and Dean followed her into the room, gun raised high. “Charlotte!” 

And he was sent clattering over desks and chairs. His gun slipped from his hands and he struggled back to his feet. Charlotte stood on the other side of the room, using her hand on the wall to hold herself up with a groan. “I’m good!” 

“Do you see it?” 

“No! Where’s the locket?”  
  
“You had it!”  
  
“I was thrown through a door!” 

The schools fire sprinklers sprang to life and the two hunters stared at each other with a glare. When they turned their eyes back to the room they both ducked. A fire extinguisher narrowly missed Charlotte’s head whilst a heavy shelving unit just missed Dean. Then the desk threw itself against Charlotte’s legs, pinning her to the opposite wall. “Shit!” He jumped across the room and tried to pull the desk away to no avail. “Get the locket!” 

Water rained down around him and his eyes searched the ground. A glint of gold caught his eyes and he pushed around desks and chairs. His fingers were inches away when his legs were pulled out from underneath him. His face made a direct line for the chair and he fell from it with a groan. “Dean?” 

“I’m fine!” 

He pushed himself up and let his eyes watch as Charlotte tried in vain to push on the desk. She stopped to look at him for a moment and he watched her eyes turn to over his head. He tilted his head up to see the ghost of the boy standing above him. The dripping water made him faze in and out. With no gun and no salt in his hands he felt defenceless. 

There was the feel of a boot in his ribs and Dean was forced to curl in on himself as the invisible boot brought itself back round to his stomach and ribs. Then an invisible hand was hauling him to his feet, hauling his body up and off the ground by the scruff of his neck. He tried to grab at the invisible hands but there was nothing to grab. The boy was still staring up at him, eyes angry and his face bloodied and bruised. “James,” Dean tried between gritted teeth. 

The mention of his name only seemed to make the invisible hands circle his neck. The cool water slid over his heating skin and he kicked his legs, trying to reach a desk to prop himself up on. Time seemed to slow as the seconds dragged themselves by around his neck. 

The crack of a shotgun had him falling onto the floor gasping for breath. He turned his eyes over his shoulder to see Charlotte slump against the desk, shotgun sprawled across the woodwork. “Nice distraction,” she said. Her hands shoved the desk away and she stepped away from it, shotgun by her side. “Locket?” 

“Yeah,” Dean muttered and he turned over. The glint of gold sparkled and he reached for it once more. He grabbed it without incidence, tugged on his pocket to pull out his lighter and tried to bring the fire forth. “Oh come on,” he groaned as he tried to light it again. 

Charlotte rummaged in her own pockets and pulled forth her own lighter. “Here.” She passed it over and Dean flicked it on, snapped open the locket with one hand and touched the fire to the few strands of brown hair inside. It took a short while for the hair to finally catch alight, Charlotte having to stand guard and fire off two more rounds. 

There was a scream and both hunters shielded their eyes as James exploded into a burst of flames. The water stopped and silence erupted around them. “So,” Dean said as he hauled himself to his feet. “That was interesting.”  
  
“You’re welcome,” she muttered as she held her hand out, he took it and she helped him up to his feet. Above his eyes was a glint of red and she raised her brows at him.

He narrowed his eyes and said, “I was doing fine.” He let go of her hand and gently pressed a hand to his head. He winced and said, "How bad is it?"  
  
“I'll take a look back at the motel room,” she said and she turned her eyes to the dark room. In the shadows it was easy to tell there was a mess. A clutter of splintered wood, upturned furniture and water everywhere. She looked back at Dean, her eyes moving straight to the cut and she lifted a hand to brush her thumb over the edge of it. Dean hissed and she pulled a face at him. "Don't be such a wimp," she whispered and she shook the sleeve of her jacket over her hand to wipe at it some more. Some of the blood came away and she traced her thumb back over it. "It's not too bad," her eyes moved back to his face and she hadn't realised how close they were. Dean was looking at her with the start of a sly smile and she narrowed her eyes, "What are you-"

His hands came up and he pulled her against himself with a grin. "If you wanted to get up close and personal," he whispered, "you only had to ask."

She rolled her eyes, doing her best to ignore the warmth he seemed to let off, despite the drenched clothes he was wearing. It took a moment for the words to come from her mouth, "You're a fiend you know that right?"

He chuckled and only tightened his hold on her, "You love it."

"The only thing I would love would be to get back to my motel room and take a nice warm shower."

"Is that all you'd love to do?"

She rolled her eyes, unable to help the slight upturn of the corners of her mouth, and put her hands on his shoulder, waiting for him to move. He didn’t and she narrowed her eyes at him. She wanted to get out of these wet clothes and soon, they were making her cold. “Move Dean.” 

He did. He moved them backwards, away from the door, one step. “Make me.” Charlotte pushed her hands against his chest and she managed to make him stumble slightly. Dean chuckled and only kept his arms around her. “Gotta try harder than that princess.” 

She punched his arm on impulse. “Ow!” he said. 

Now she was smirking and she started to step back from him as his grip loosened, “You asked for it.” She bumped her hip into him as she passed but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back to face him. “Wh-” his mouth was on hers before she could get out the single word. His wet hands tangled themselves in water slicked strands of her hair as he pulled on her neck. Wet clothes pressed against wet clothes and she scrunched her hands into the fabric of his jacket, ready to push him away. They pulled apart and in the dark she could see lustful eyes. She wanted to curse, wanted to punch him, kick him, slap him, anything but give in to the heat that started in the pit of her stomach. 

“Dean,” she muttered. 

His mouth curled and his legs danced with hers, forcing her back against the wall with enough force to push air from her lungs. His slicked forehead rested against hers and he grinned down at her, “Charlotte,” he murmured. 

“I hate you,” she whispered before she dragged his mouth to hers. His mouth was hot. It burnt against the chill the water was forcing against her skin and she sucked it in. She pulled on that warmth, letting it push a fire in the pit of her stomach. Something about his fiery touches did wonders. 

He dragged his mouth against her neck, leaving warm patches as he tugged on her pants. There wasn’t anything elegant about getting it on in wet clothes, but elegance didn’t matter. The kisses were rough and needy, a wanted touch to take away the past hour of work that would bruise their bodies later on. 

Dean worked his hands to her hips and he twisted her away from the wall. Their feet danced until he got her on the desk. Hands fumbled on jeans and buttons, working to get each other free with desperation. Soon he was free from his pants and he wrapped himself up. His mouth was on hers and her pants were around her ankles as his sat somewhere down on his thighs. 

He pushed himself inside of her, gave it a few seconds and levelled a steady gaze with her. She nodded her head, the corner of her bottom lip sucked in beneath her teeth and he worked up a quick and rough rhythm. He was groaning into her warm neck as her fingers dragged themselves over the cotton of his shirt, wanting to touch flesh. “Dean,” she moaned out and she clamped her mouth around his neck as he thrusted deeper and harder. Her mouth closed around the skin on his neck and Dean’s grip on her waist tightened, fingers digging into flesh. 

She rolled her hips up in time with him, one hand slidng between his shirt and skin and trace warm fingers over his skin. He shivered and moaned as he kissed hungrily at her neck. She bit at his earlobe and he groaned into her shoulder two more times before he sagged against her body as she clenched around him, her own moans echoing in his ear with a mutter of his name. Moments later he was out and zipping himself back up as she pulled pants back on. Heavy breathing was the only sound between them for several seconds before they finally dared a look. She could feel her heart still racing and she took a hold of the gun she’d dropped and nodded her head to the older hunter, “We should go.”  
  
“Yeah,” he agreed. 

They made it back to the motel with the radio filling the silence, Charlotte taking the short fifteen minute journey to let her head fall over the back of the seat, eyes closed. The engine cut out, the music stopped and she snapped forward. “Thanks,” she said. 

She had her hand on the handle of the door when Dean’s hand grabbed her arm again. “Wait.” Her eyes turned back to him, silent and questioning. He was staring at her, eyes drawn in, thinking. Then he let her go, shook his head once and said, “Nothing.” Without another word he climbed out of the car and closed the door.  
  
“Dean,” she said getting out of her own side. He was halfway to his room when she caught up. Her face was screwed up as words fought on the end of her tongue, wanting to speak. She took a moment to construct her sentence before she said, “Let me take a look at that." She pointed at his head and Dean turned his attention to the window to eyes his reflection.

He shrugged a shoulder, "I'll take care of that."

She pulled her hand back and settled it on the pocket of her jeans, "Right." She took a step back and put a smile on her face, "It was nice to see you again Dean."

He nodded his head, his eyes fixed in a firm expression as he ignore whatever was going on inside of his stomach. "Yeah, no of course. See you around?"

She nodded her head once and tilted her head over her shoulder, "I'm gonna go clean up. You going back to your Dad tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Dean said, "I'm supposed to meet him in Idaho. You going back to Bobby's?"

"Making a pit stop in Nebraska on the way but that's the plan."

He frowned, "What's in Nebraska?"

"A friend."

"Girlfriend?"

Charlotte rolled her eyes, a smile starting on her lips, "Jealous is a bad colour on you Dean."

He held his hands up, "Hey, I'm not jealous, just take lots of pictures."

She turned her back on him and started heading towards her own room. "You're disgusting Dean Winchester!" she shouted over her shoulder.

"You love me!" he shouted back.

"Only when you're nowhere near me!"

Dean's laugh followed her all the way into her room before she shut the door on it and him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm thinking of making this a series of stories. (Otherwise it'll be HUGE!) and I'm wondering if anybody would prefer shorter but more stories or just one long thing. Lemme me ^-^


	21. 2004 - March

_Nebraska – Harvelle Roadhouse_

Jo Harvelle, or Joanna Beth as her mother called her whenever she was in trouble. The only other _female_ child she knew that had grown up around hunting. Bobby had taken Charlotte to the Roadhouse when she was fourteen, wanting to meet an old friend on neutral territory. When the twenty two year old arrived at the Roadhouse, the now eighteen year old was perched at the bar, eyes fixed on a handsome twenty something hunter. 

Charlotte rolled her eyes and took a seat at the other end of the bar. Ellen gave the girl a quirk of the brow. This was her first visit without Bobby. “Where is he?” 

“Home.” 

Ellen narrowed her eyes. “You on a hunt?” It was said low and Charlotte answered with a nod. “Alone?” 

The younger woman looked up at her with a mock hurt expression. “I’m twenty two. I can take care of myself.” 

She shook her head in response and grabbed a beer for Charlotte. “Whatever you do, don’t tell Jo. I don’t want her hunting.” 

Charlotte nodded and took the beer. “Of course. How’s everything been?” She nodded her head towards the room and Ellen sighed. She talked about how business was business, about how some days the place was silent and awkward as tourists came in. With every sentence her eyes were on Jo and the guy she was talking to. “A little harmless flirting never hurt anybody Ellen.” 

The woman glared and Charlotte shrank in her seat. The seconds seemed to drag and Charlotte begged anybody in the bar to please order a drink. That was when another guy approached the bar and Ellen turned her eyes away to take the order. 

Jo bounced into the seat next to her then and let one brow dance upwards. “Where’s Bobby?” 

“I needed some time with girls. Away from the men. The testosterone was killing me.” 

She laughed and nodded her head towards the main room. “I know that feeling.” Then her eyes were back on Charlotte. “So what’ve I missed?” 

“Nothing,” she said a little too quickly. Jo only narrowed her eyes with a smirk and Charlotte rolled her own. “What? I have nothing to tell!” 

“Uh huh. Spill it Dixon! I want details of him. Now.” 

Charlotte rolled her eyes and sighed. “He’s a douche. Big deal.” 

Now Jo rolled her eyes. “Yet you still scored with him. He must’ve been hot to some degree.” 

“Okay,” she said with an air of finality. “Maybe a little. So? He is still a douche and will always be a douche.” 

“Wait a minute,” Jo leaned forward in her seat and Charlotte busied herself with her beer. “You’re talking like you’re going to see him again. Are you?”  
  
“Yes. No, I- ugh.” Charlotte gave up and took a sip of beer.  
  
“So the problem is?” 

Charlotte sighed and released the bottle from her mouth. She shrugged as she said, “The problem? There is no problem. Everything’s fine. Have you found anybody worth keeping a hold on?” 

Jo pulled a face and rolled her eyes, “In this place?”  
  
As if to prove a point a man appeared on Charlotte’s other side, a smirk on his features. “Who’s your friend Jo?” 

And when Charlotte looked at him she couldn’t help the appreciative smile that curled itself up. “Charlotte, and you are?” 

“George, nice to meet you Charlotte. I haven’t seen you around here before. You new?” 

She could feel Jo’s shaking head on her back and did her best to ignore it as she took in warm brown eyes and a head of black hair. The guy wasn’t much taller than her and he looked a few years older too. But she could deal with that. “I don’t make it a habit of coming here, I know I should though.” 

“If you did then I would have already introduced myself.”  
  
She quirked her brows up at him. “Is that so?” 

He nodded and took the seat finally. “Yep and I assume you’re on a job right?” 

“Nope,” she lied, “just catching up with some old friends. Let me guess, you’ve just finished one?” 

“Bingo. Bagged me a poltergeist.” 

“Really?” 

“It’d killed seven others and somebody had to put it down.” 

Charlotte smirked and leaned closer to say, “A poltergeist. Wow. Check you out.” And the guy seemed to lean in closer. She squashed the eye roll and pulled herself back up in her seat. “Sorry George, I’ve only got eyes for Jo.” 

Out of the corner of her eye she watched Jo splutter on the drink she’d had in her hand. Another smirk coiled itself around her lips. “That’s a little hard for me understand you see,” and she could feel the heat of his body just inches from her. She turned and found him leaning a little too close for comfort. “I can spot a queer from the other side of the room. You are no queer.” 

“And you have no concept of the words personal space.”  
  
“Come on,” he said and he got up off the bar stool to stand next to her. “I can have you done and begging for more in ten minutes.” She stared at him. Long and hard. For several seconds. Eventually George began to shift in his seat. “Oh come on girl, you gotta give a man an answer.” 

“You know, up until you said that, I was interested. Now? Not so much.” 

“Hey Jo,” the man said as he stood up, “you got a prude friend here or what?” 

Charlotte almost jumped up and punched him in the mouth. It was the look from Ellen that pinned her to her seat with a glare. Once she was certain the man had shuffled away she spoke, “He’s asking for me to sock him. Come on Ellen, just one punch.” 

Ellen shook her head, “I am not letting you start a fight in my bar.” 

“Even when it’s justified?”  
  
Jo chuckled as she brought herself back to her other side. “Yeah well, he may be a dick but he stills scores.” 

“Because the girls he does score with must have half of their brain cells.” The other girl just laughed and Charlotte swore she saw Ellen’s mouth twitch with a curl. “How’s everything been down here with you anyway Jo?” 

“I’ve been bored, same old same old. You know what would be great to do? Go on a hunt.” 

Charlotte rolled her eyes and shook her head. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Trust me.” 

“You’ve been on a hunt? What did you kill?” 

_Fuck_. She ducked her eyes, ground her teeth together and took another sip of beer as she collected words in her mouth. “Just a ghost. But I hated it. It’s not glamorous and it is not worth wasting my life on.” 

“Yeah but, you’re helping people though.” 

Charlotte levelled a gaze with her. “And still most of them want you to turn around and never come back again.” 

Jo scoffed, “If it means saving lives then what’s the big deal?” 

“It’s messy, destructive, awful and downright ruins everything good you ever have. My advice? Don’t get into it. Stay as far away from it as possible because once you’re in there’s no getting out without the end being bloody and messy and alone on some back water road in the middle of nowhere.” 

Jo held her gaze with Charlotte for several seconds before she jumped off from her seat and strode across to the opposite side of the room, a glare set into her features. Charlotte sighed and fixed her gaze on the bottle in front of her. “I hope you’re happy Ellen. Your daughter hates me for what I just said.” She ran a hand over her face with another sigh. 

“Yeah well, I appreciate it. At least it’s one more voice to back her down.” 

She offered the older woman a tight smile before she slumped in her seat and turned to face the room. “Can I get another beer?” 

“Sure.” 

Jo was stood talking to patrons, customers and eventually the girl sat herself next to Ash on the pool table, just talking. She hated lying to Jo but Ellen and Bobby had asked that she kept the hunting side of her life on the low down whilst she was in the roadhouse. Even Bobby wasn’t a hundred percent with her hunting. The man vocalised that she do nothing but the simple of ghosts, salt and burn, and that if it were anything else to leave it to somebody else or for him to take it with her. 

The man had asked her more than enough times if she would just settle down with a normal job and try to live a normal life. At least for a while. He’d asked that just a few days ago and she’d turned round and said, “How can I when I know what’s out there? I can’t just turn my back on it and forget it all.” 

The look on his face had made her hate herself, the way his eyes fell, sad and angry in the same moment. That was her main reason for coming out to the roadhouse. Ellen was the closest thing she had to a mother and when Bobby couldn’t be asked for advice she was the next best thing. Even if she was in another state. 

She turned back to the bar and looked up to see Ellen staring at her, one brow up. “Talk sunshine.” 

Charlotte sighed and started, “Bobby wants me to try to live a normal life. To you know, get a job, a house, have co-workers who are friends, a nine to five job. Commuting. A regular, normal boyfriend. I-” she searched for the words and let her head hang for a second whilst she shook it. Then her eyes found Ellen’s. She shrugged, opened her mouth to speak and let it fall shut again. 

“You know what I’d say Charlotte. I’m with Bobby. Hunting ain’t what everyone here makes it out to be.” 

“I know that, I do.” She nodded. “I almost watched somebody get choked by a frigging poltergeist of all things. But I can’t just, just turn my back on it all. My mum died to supernatural things, so did my dad and I’ve practically been brought up around it. I see stuff everywhere and, I just can’t stop that.” And now Ellen was wearing the same look Bobby had given her and the pit of self-hatred started again. “Please don’t look at me like that.” 

Ellen sighed and settled both hands onto the counter. “Okay. You know about hunting and you can’t forget about it. So don’t. But try to get a job. Try to do you know, normal things. For Bobby’s sake and mine. But hunting is not worth wasting your life on.” 

She pulled a face at the echo of her words and lost herself in her beer. Some days, she hated coming to the Roadhouse.  
  
Some days she hated that Ellen was right. 

By the time Hunters had started to file out of the Roadhouse Jo was softening up to Charlotte. By the time the last Hunter had left Jo sat down next to her. “You mean that?”  
  
She put her sixth bottle of beer down and looked over at the other woman. “Mean what?” 

“About not wasting your life on hunting?” _  
_

_No._ “Yeah.” 

“You got anywhere to stay tonight?” 

Charlotte smirked. “Why? You want to braid each other’s hair and do our nails whilst we talk about boys and the latest fashions?” 

Jo laughed and shook her head. “We still have that guest room and it’d be nice to play pool with somebody new. Plus maybe we _can_ talk about boys.” 

“On one condition.” 

“What?”  
  
“I don’t pay for the beer.” 

“Oh you’re paying for the beer alright.” 

Charlotte smiled as the younger woman jumped from the bar and ambled over to the pool table, already picking up a cue as Charlotte said, “Fair enough. Game on bitch.”  
  
“Oh you are so going to lose!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My next update won't take so long. I promise. Thank you to everyone who's reading and enjoying the story ^-^ Don't be afraid to let me know what you think.


	22. 2004 - May

_California – Stanford University  
_

She grinned at the sight that greeted her in the off campus bar. Oh it was a thing of beauty, all of the guys and with enough alcohol Charlotte knew she could bend a couple of girls her way. Charlotte’s eyes swept across the sea of faces, taking in each one after the other. In her mind she was contemplating how best to score various free drinks. 

And her phone buzzed. 

She bit the inside of her lower lip and sighed, took herself outside and pulled out her phone, “Yeah?” 

“No need to sound so pissy.” _Dean_.  
  
“What do you want Winchester?” 

“What are you wearing?” 

She didn’t give any verbal recognition of his words. Just ended the call and cut out his smirking voice. Seconds later she answered the phone again and said, “Ask that again and the next time I see you-” 

“Come on,” he said and she could hear the purr of the Impala in the back ground, “I was kidding.” 

She rolled her eyes and tilted her head with an appreciative grin towards a group of guys that were approaching the bar. A couple smiled back and she left whatever Dean was saying to hang on the phone as she said, “Save me a seat?” 

“Sure,” a very late teen said with a head of blonde hair and gorgeous brown eyes. 

As the phone worked its way back to her ear her eyes followed the boys into the bar, falling to look at their asses. “-you there?” 

“Yeah, what was that?” 

“What were you doing?” 

“Checking out a couple of hot guys.” A group of girls passed then and Charlotte grinned at them with a raise of her brows. They looked her over once before they disappeared inside without a word. “And girls.” 

“Whatever, I called to just, you know, see how you were doing?” 

“I’m fine,” and her eyes found another set of boys going into the bar. _This is going to be fun_. “Look, I’ll call you back alright?” 

“Seriously?” 

“Dean, I am at a fucking student bar. I aim to pay for zero drinks tonight and to have all of the fun in the world.” 

“Slut.”  
  
“Whore.” 

“Whatever.” And the line cut out. 

She rolled her eyes, pocketed her phone and traipsed back inside. The group of three boys who she’d asked to save her a seat were sat around a high table, and she grinned to herself. _Like taking candy from a baby_. And she sauntered over there like she owned the place. “This seat taken?” 

The one who said he’d save her a seat shook his head with a wide smile, “Not at all. My name’s Tom.” 

“Linda,” she lied. “So, _Tom_ ,” and she shuffled closer, “what do you do here?” Five beers in and the guys were starting to lose their cool. The two tequila shots they’d done didn’t help, but at this rate Charlotte guessed she would be leaving them passed out on the floor. 

Tom’s hand worked its way up her leg and his mouth found her ear, “Let’s ditch this place and go back to my place.” 

She feigned interest, bit the corner of her lower lip and held his gaze for several seconds before she jumped from her seat. “How about you grab us another shot whilst I use the little girl’s room yeah?” 

He moved to the bar, she rolled her eyes and made her own way to the bathroom. It wasn’t the cleanest of places but it also wasn’t the worst. She ignored the sticky floor and the smell of dried vomit and piss and managed to worm her way into a stall. She flushed, washed her hands and left.  
  
She got two feet before she bumped into a solid mass of muscle. Whoever the muscle belonged to spilt their drink on her. “I am so sorry,” the mass spoke up. 

The drink was forgotten and Charlotte lifted her eyes. Up and up and up. “Sam?” 

“Charlotte?” 

And she jumped into his arms, her arms going around his neck. “Fancy meeting you here.” 

He set her back on her feet and offered her a straight look. “I go to college here. What are _you_ doing here?” And then he grimaced, “You’re not on a case are you?” 

“No,” she pointed up at him. “Actually I came to say hi. And you know,” she shrugged, “wish you Happy Birthday.” The taller and younger man smiled warmly down at her. “Let me buy you a drink,” and a thought occurred to her. “Ooh, I have a present. Somewhere.” She frowned in thought and patted her pockets down and sighed. “In my car.” 

Sam gave a short laugh and waved her off, “It’s fine. And erm, just a pink squirrel.” She turned surprised eyes up at him and he held his hands up, “It wasn’t mine.” 

That was when a blonde haired beautiful girl with long legs appeared on Sam’s side. “Sam, who’s your friend?”  
  
Charlotte was raising her eyebrows again with a smirk and Sam cleared his throat with an awkward smile. “Erm, Charlotte, this is Jess, my girlfriend. Jess this is Charlotte. She’s an old family friend.” 

The older girl stuck her hand out, “Hi, nice to meet you Jess. Nice to see someone can keep Sam trained.” 

Jess chuckled and shook her hand. “Was he always so tall?” 

“No. No he was not. Lanky yes, tall, no.” Then there was somebody shouting for a Linda and Sam shook his head at Charlotte’s dropped expression. “I’m being summoned.” 

The couple turned their eyes over their shoulder and turned back to her. Jess opened her mouth to speak but Sam beat her to any conversation, “Don’t get into any trouble okay?” 

“Too late,” and she grinned and turned her eyes to Jess. “It was nice to meet you.” She pointed to Sam. “He’s lucky to have you.” And she made her way to the bar, put in an order of a pink squirrel and pointed to Jess before she made her way back to Tom. 

Jess and Sam took a seat at the bar and Jess eyed Charlotte and Tom up before her eyes looked to Sam worriedly. “What?” 

“Is she going to be okay?” 

Sam smiled awkwardly, “What do you mean?” 

“She’s hanging around with Tom. You know, Tom, Tom.” 

It dawned on him what she meant by Tom. Not the best of guys around the College. In fact he gave men a bad name. He turned his own eyes over his shoulder to see Charlotte sit a little too close to the guy for his liking. After a moment he forced his eyes away and smiled up at Jess. “She’ll be fine.”  
  
“You sure?”  
  
“Yeah I’m sure.” 

Jess seemed to take a moment to consider his words before she took the drink the bartender gave her with a smile. “Okay.” She took a sip and turned to Sam, “So you two are just friends?” 

“Huh? What?” Then she repeated her question and his expression dropped. “No, no, nothing ever happened and I’m sure it won’t. Look she was just here to, you know, say hi. Honestly.” 

Jess narrowed her eyes as she eyed her boyfriend. “So nothing happened? Nothing at all?” 

“No. Plus I’m fairly certain her and my brother have a _thing_.” 

“Dean right?”

“Yeah.” 

“Okay.”  
  
A _crack_ attracted their attention and Sam sighed as he saw Charlotte glaring down at a figure on the floor. “Piece of perverted trash shit,” she muttered before her eyes looked up with a frown. “Great,” she said, throwing her arms up. The eyes were still on her and she shrugged her shoulders, “What? The guy’s an ass.” 

And the room reverted back to its loud conversations and loud music. Sam turned his head back to Jess and said, “See.” She rolled her eyes and took another sip of her drink. 

Charlotte fell onto the bed in her motel room with a grin. The first bar was a bust but she’d managed to find many others that welcomed her. By the time she’d waltzed into her motel room, after doing the horizontal tango with some kid studying geography, it had gone four and sleep was trying to pull her under. She was emptying her pockets of change, keys, pens and even some plastic wrapped pieces of candy when she found her phone. 

With a sigh she found Dean’s number, flopped back onto her bed and dialled. “What time is it where’re you at?” 

There was a groan before Dean’s tired voice muttered, “Are you drunk?”  
  
“Time?” 

He sighed. “Three. Are you drunk?” 

And she giggled. She didn’t giggle. “Maybe.” 

“Did you just-” 

“No.” She sighed with content. “Deeeaann,” she paused for several second before she rolled over onto her stomach and frowned. “I think I’m going to be sick.”  
  
“Then get to the bathroom.” 

The way he said it was so matter of fact that Charlotte scrunched her face up. She groaned and eyed the bathroom out of the corner of her eyes. “Too far.” 

“Oh jesus,” he mumbled on the other side, “you know what, just call me when you’re sober.”  
  
“You call,” a pause, “bitch,” and she closed her phone and let it fall onto the bed. Sleep finally dragged her into a blissfully warm slumber. 

When Jess left hers and Sam’s apartment for lessons the next morning she was stopped from stepping out at the sight of a brown wrapped parcel outside the door. In black ink on the paper it said, _Happy Birthday Sam. Charlotte_. She picked it up and turned back into the room, “Sam?” 

He appeared a moment later, “Yeah?” and he noticed the package, “What’s that?”  
“For you.” 

Sam frowned and took the package. After a deep frown he peeled the paper away and held the book away in surprise. “Civil Procedure? Volume 1?” 

Now Jess was looking at the book in shock. “What? How much is that worth?”  
  
Sam shook his head with a lop sided smile. “I don’t know. But it’s nice.” Jess bid him goodbye and Sam flicked through the first few pages, a small smile stuck on his face. 

On the other side of town Charlotte was busy packing her things. She’d gotten to Stanford, had said hi to Sam and even gotten him a present. She hoped the law book was helpful. She’d picked it up from a local library after browsing for inspiration. And the librarians had their back turned and nobody was paying her any attention. 

She shook her head, trying to clear the last vestiges of alcohol from her mind when her phone buzzed. Dean’s name glared across her screen. “What?” 

“You sober now?” 

“Shut up. What did you want yesterday?” 

“Now you care.” 

She rolled her eyes and climbed into the driver’s seat of her car and shoved the keys into the ignition. “Dean.” 

“What? It’s been like what, half a year? I just thought I’d see how you were doing?” 

“I’m good, everything is fine and I totally scored last night.” 

“Oh really? Just by chance I managed to snag myself a beautiful doll with long legs and black hair. And man she had a wonderful set.” 

“Right, so what did you save her from then?” 

“Some ghoul that was hassling her over her dead employee.” 

“So you jumped on a grieving woman?” 

“Well she wasn’t really grieving. Not too much anyway.” 

“Uh huh. So what’s next Winchester?” She started her engine and turned down the Johnny Cash that had started to blare through her speakers. 

“Erm, a little R&R in Minneapolis. Where are you anyway?” 

“Cali, just finished a case with a ghost. Now Bobby wants me back to fixing cars for him.” 

Dean chuckled. “Have fun.” 

“Bye.” She started the engine, pulled out of the parking lot and made her way towards the freeway to get back to South Dakota.


	23. 2004 - June

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

Bobby answered the door to a grinning Dean Winchester. "I'm cool to drop by right?"

The older man let a single chuckle loose. "You're welcome anytime Son. Where's your Dad at anyhow?"

Dean stepped into the house and closed the door behind him. "Uh, some hunt down in South Carolina. I don't know, the old man doesn't really tell me much."

"Surprise surprise."

He tried to ignore Bobby's tone and simply stuffed his hands into his pockets. "You've been letting Charlotte hunt?"

The man turned his eyes to Dean with a frown, "So?"

"Nothing," he held his hands up, "I just thought you would be against it."

Bobby shook his head and grabbed two beers from the fridge. "I can't stop her even if I tried. Hell she's bent on killing every ugly thing on this planet. The least I can do is prepare her for anything."

Dean took the offered beer and twisted the cap off. "Can't argue with that." He took a sip and settled himself against the frame of the kitchen door. "What've I missed then?"

"If you're looking for Charlotte she's on a breakdown repair trip. Probably be back in the hour." The younger man opened his mouth to speak but Bobby only pulled a face. "I'm not an idiot Dean. I know there's something going on between the pair of you." He straightened his back and stood away from the frame. "And I don't care on the condition that neither of you come crying to me about it."

Now Dean was frowning. "Why would we be crying?"

Bobby looked at him as if he'd said the worst thing in the world. "Neither of you can keep your eyes to yourselves. Don't play dumb with me boy, she's just as bad as you. But I don't want neither of you crying over the other. Especially not to me."

"Look, Bobby, we're not going to be crying, ever, about the other. Trust me."

The older man just looked at Dean for several seconds before a phone rang to break the conversation. "And if you do hurt her boy." He left it open as he grabbed the phone labelled FBI.

Dean frowned at the man for three more seconds before he turned and ambled into the living room. Bobby had gotten rid of his TV and the only thing Dean had to pass the time were books on the supernatural world. He glared at the books. They had never really been his thing. As Bobby talked away on the phone Dean busied himself with looking over the spines of a pile of books, eyes idly glimpsing over the titles.

He was halfway through the second pile of books when he heard a truck pulling up around the back of the house. Dean passed a glance with Bobby before he took himself and his beer out back. Charlotte was turning the engine off in the tow truck when he got outside and Dean passed his eyes over the car she'd towed back. "What's wrong with it?"

"A whole lot of crap. The last time the guy had it serviced was over two years ago. Distributor's busted and the crank shafts all jammed up."

"You need a hand?"

She turned one raised brow over at him. "Since when did you want to help?"

Dean shrugged with a lop sided smirk. "I just thought it'd be nice of me to offer."

Charlotte waved him off as she lowered the car from the back of the tow truck onto the ground. "I'll be fine. What are you doing here anyway, I thought you were in Indiana on R&R?"

"I got bored." He watched as the car hit the ground with a gentle thud. "Hey erm, did, did you tell Bobby?"

She turned a curious expression over to him. "Did I tell him what?"

"You know," he said. When she only offered him a blank expression he sighed, "about us?"

"Dean, there isn't really an 'us' to tell him."

"Yeah, no I know that, it's just that he made a comment."

Now she was frowning as she unbuckled the car from the truck. "What kind of comment?"

"About us not going crying to him." She frowned at him again and shook her head with a shrug. "About each other. I don't know."

"Right," Charlotte said.

Bobby appeared at the back door and both children turned to look at him. "Listen kids, I gotta run to Arkansas. Charlotte you know what to do with the phones and if anybody asks for help tell 'em you'll call them back-"

"And consult you or the books." Charlotte said. "I know the rules." She jumped up to the back porch and followed Bobby back into the house. "How long are you going for?"

"Depends on the situation. No more than a few days though."

"Alright, well there's food in the fridge, I've got money so you don't need to worry okay?"

Bobby smiled warmly and he nodded. "I'll go pack my bags."

Twenty minutes later and Bobby was packed and out of the door with last minute instructions and warnings to the pair of them, his eyes lingering on Dean before he left. Once the door was closed Dean turned to Charlotte with a suggestive look and a smirk that had her rolling her eyes and moving towards the desk in the living room. "Head out of the gutter Dean."

"You're telling me that you're not thinking the same thing? We're alone, for several days,  _alone_ , in a house, with nobody to check up on us."

There was a smirk that curled the corner of her lips and she peered up at him. Then a phone rang and her eyes travelled to the series of phones behind him. With a sigh she moved around the desk and past him, "Can you do me a favour and start work on the car? Please?"

He seemed to sigh and even shake his head before he grabbed another beer, let his jacket hang on the back of the chair in the kitchen and made his way back outside. "You owe me for this!"

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered as her eyes followed him out the door on his ass. Her mouth curled and she angled her head to try to follow it out of the door and around the corner. On the phone was a hunter asking for Bobby, "He's away for a short while. Tell me your problem and I'll try to answer it for you."

The guy seemed to sigh at the hiccup in his plans and she glared into the receiver. Some people were unwilling to give others a chance. The guy seemed to utter something about a possible zombie. She narrowed her eyes at the phone. "Zombie? Seriously? That's what you've come up with? Okay," she sighed and ran a hand over her face. Zombies weren't a thing. "Is it assaulting the same group of friends or family?"

"Yeah."

"And it's too solid a mass to be a ghost?"

"Yeah."

"Revenant. Silver works on them."

"You sure?"

She sighed and glared at the fridge. Some people. "Yes." And she hung up. The phone started again and she tilted her head back. The one phone that every hunter called for help was the one phone they were calling at the same time. "Hello?"

"Charlotte? It's Harry."

"Oh hey Harry."

"Bobby's out I take it?"

She smiled. Harry was one of the few hunters who didn't judge her for a, being a woman, b, young and inexperienced compared to some of the others and c, for being her. He was one of the few hunters she could have a conversation with. "Yeah, he won't be back for a few days."

"Alright, well can you do me a favour and look up lore about pituitary glands and claws for me?"

"Sure, what's the number I'm calling back?" She wrote it down and Harry thanked her, wished her well and hung up. Then she turned to the room full of books and sighed. There were a couple of titles already in her mind. There were several that she'd already crossed off in her mind and she jumped straight to researching.

Twenty books in and she was no closer to finding out what snacked on pituitary glands and had claws. With a sigh she closed the book and leaned back in the chair, eyes closed.  _Just a small break_  she thought and she slumped into the seat.

She heard Dean but didn't want to avoid her rest. "I thought I'd been working hard," he muttered.

Charlotte smirked and tilted her head forward to look at him, "Yeah well some us don't mind research."

He rolled his eyes and grabbed two beers from the fridge. As he stepped across the room he opened both and stretched one out to her. "What are you looking for anyway?"

She took a drag of the cold liquid and leaned forward. "Pituitary glands and claws."

Dean frowned. "Pituitary glands?"

"Yeah."

"That sounds like a Kitsune. They're rare but one strike to the heart and they're dead." She stared at him for several seconds before he frowned. "What?"

"Did you have to research that or did your Dad do that?"

She was already grabbing the phone to call Harry back. "Pfft," Dean said, "Does it matter? Oh, fox eyes. Literally, they show fox eyes when in danger. But they appear human so."

She nodded and stepped around the desk, the phone already pressed to her ear, "Hey Harry, I got your answer for you."

"Thank you Dean, greatly appreciated Dean," Dean muttered. Then he felt a hand slap his ass and he turned, brows raised to a smirking Charlotte. He smirked back and she made a 'come hither' gesture with her fingers. He followed.

She finished on the phone, sat it back in its place and turned her eyes onto him. She leaned back against the counter and the way her body pushed itself in his direction had him looking. Her hands grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him flush against her, fingers lacing themselves through his hair. The beer in his hand found the kitchen counter and he settled his hands against her waist. Her eyes searched his face and they dropped to his mouth, Dean found his own pair of green eyes on her mouth and his body inched just that much closer that had heat rushing between them. "For the record," he said as he angled his head against hers. "You started this one."

Her mouth pulled back the corner of her bottom lip in a smirk that had lustful eyes capturing his. "Yeah," she managed before she forced her mouth against his.

As his fingers teased the skin just above her jeans she placed both hands against his chest and pushed him away enough to look up at him. He frowned. "What?"

She simply looked at him for several seconds, eyes furrowed ever so slightly before she shook her head. The lust started to take over again and she smiled. "Nothing." Their mouths were back on each other and the kisses were rough.

They managed to pull their pants down and Dean managed to roll a condom on before he had her pushed up against the counter, her knees on either side of him. He pulled on her waist to keep them both steady as he rolled his hips against hers, enjoying the little gasps that escaped her mouth with each thrust. Dean groaned and attacked her neck with warm kisses, a hand in her hair as she gripped his shoulders tightly. It didn’t take long for her to clench around him, a warmth surrounding Dean and he jerked his hips a couple more times before he came with a grinning pant.

They pulled away, kissed each other once and pulled their pants up before she agreed to help him work on the car outside.

An hour later the car was delivered back to the customer and Dean and Charlotte made their way upstairs to her room, hands searching each other and their mouths seeking the warmth of each other. At the top of the stairs Dean lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around him with a moan. He navigated the way to her room, nudged the door open with his foot and carried her inside, not bothering to close the door.

Clothes were thrown onto the floor and Charlotte dragged him to the bed with hungry kisses and her hand already reaching for his waist and inching lower. Dean grinned, happy to oblige as he climbed on top of her and pushed straight into her with a groan. She gasped against him, her head rolling back and he worked up a quick pace, in time with the roll of her hips.

“God yes,” she moaned against his neck as she teased the skin there with her teeth.

Dean could only groan in response, one hand threaded in her hair as he closed his eyes, trying to keep his thrusts even. He felt the edge draw near and he pulled her face away from his neck to attack hers with his mouth. He kissed her neck rough and hard, working his way down and over her shoulder, biting down gently on the skin there before he worked his back up with long, hard thrusts.

He felt her jerk against him, felt the arch of her back as she dug her fingers into his skin and he came hard, his body shuddering from ecstasy. He fell against her, his chest heaving and his face pressed into the crook of her shoulder for several seconds. When he finally lifted lust clouded eyes up to look at her he caught the same expression on her face and he smiled softly before he moved a hand up to brush a few stray strands of hair from her face. He tilted her chin up and kissed her gently on the lips before he pulled and moved to clean himself up.

When he came back he climbed into bed next to her and she rolled to snuggle against his side, one arm slung over his chest. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pressed his cheek against her head with a content sigh before he closed his eyes and slept blissfully.


	24. 2004 - June part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it's been too long since I posted a chapter. Hopefully from now on there'll be more regular updates. In the meantime enjoy some dirty smut ;) and let me know if you'd rather see one long story or a series of smaller stories.

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

Between phone calls, researching books, calling back, calling around, calling Bobby, eating, fixing cars and sleeping both Dean and Charlotte enticed the other out of their clothes on several occasions.

Whilst Dean had been checking over his car she'd simply brushed her hand down his arm and he had her bent over the hood of the Impala, her fingers digging into the warm metal. She'd been looking through a book and he'd brushed up behind her, gently nuzzled the nape of her neck with his nose and she'd shoved him unceremoniously onto the floor and straddled his waist.

That first day that he was there had ignited an undying hunger in Charlotte's stomach and it was never satisfied. Each time they finished and she dressed herself she knew there was nothing but sexual satisfaction to be had. Nothing but sex was ever going to happen between them.

She liked it.

But it was _wrong_. Something was… _off_ about the way she was drawn to him, like two magnets attracting.

No strings attached.

Those were the rules. Rules that _she_ set down. Rules she wasn't breaking. There was just something _off_ about it. She couldn't put her finger on it. So when he was wriggling his way behind her whilst she'd been on the phone pretending to be an FBI agent, she hung up, turned and gently pushed him away. For once the urge to tear his clothes off and take him there and then was gone. "I've got a few things to pick up."

"Okay," he'd said. None the wiser as he cracked open another beer and moved to the salvage yard. He'd been tuning up his car in between and she let him be as she grabbed her jacket and keys and left.

She drove. Just drove.

At first she was going to drive around the town a couple of times, then she decided to get a few things from the grocery store whilst she was out. As she turned the engine off she let herself frown at the dashboard. Too much sex? Was that it? Was that even a thing? In her head she counted the rounds. Two yesterday, and so far three again today. That had her cocking a brow.

She tried to shake the weight that seemed to dangle around her neck as she stepped out of her car and into the parking lot. In her head she kicked Dean and his libido out of her mind and replaced it with an inventory of what was in the house and what was needed.

The shopping was done slowly. Her eyes looking over every choice for as long as possible. She grabbed a couple packs of beer and sighed as she placed them into the basket. Maybe it was an urge to hunt. It had been several months since she last hunted, almost five, and maybe that was what was driving her a little crazy.

With another sigh she paid, grabbed a newspaper and left. Put the bags on the back seat and drove back to the house. Dean was still outside when she got back and she put things away and took a seat back in the living room, the paper spread across the desk.

The next thirty minutes were spent reading articles, reading the entire paper twice, looking for anything. Nothing.

She sighed, slammed her head into her palms. Then she folded her arms across the desk and let her head drop. One of the phones started ringing and she groaned before she got up and answered. "Hello?"

"Hey Charlotte, it's Jo."

Suddenly her mood spiked and she smiled. "Hey, how's it going?"

"Can I come round?"

"Did you fight with your mum again?"

She could feel the glare on the other side of the line and tried to ignore it. "Can I just come round?"

Dean appeared at the back door, running a rag through his grease lined hands. A smirk caught the corner of his mouth and he let his eyes move up and down her body suggestively. She rolled her eyes and turned her back on him. "By all means."

"Cool. I can be there by ten."

"See you then."

Dean's hands were on her hips and he was teasing the flesh underneath the hem of her shirt. His nose was against her neck as she put the phone down. "Who was that?"

"A friend."

"Girlfriend?"

"Of course."

He chuckled into her neck, his breath warm. "Can I watch?"

"In your dreams." Another chuckle and Charlotte wriggled herself in his grip. He steadied her against him and her mouth curled. "Dean," she whined.

"Nope," he said.

"No," she managed to turn and place hands on his chest. "Dean-"

He frowned at her, mischief still fresh in his eyes. "When's she getting here?"

"Ten."

And the smirk was back. "We've got time."

She pushed her hands onto his chest, a grin on her face. “You've got to leave at some point.”

He tilted his head back and quirked his mouth. His hands played on her hips and he teased her skin with his thumbs. He sighed and said, “My Dad called whilst you were out. Said there's a hunt in Oregon. Said he needed me there this morning.”

“You don't want to go.”

“I have to. It's my Dad.”

She raised her brows at him and scoffed. “You are allowed to say no Dean.”

He tugged on her waist, his eyes on her mouth as he pulled her against his chest. “Come on, one for the road?”

She laughed, a hand on his face. “You are such a slut.”

He grinned, leaning his face forward a few inches, “And you're a whore.” His mouth found hers and the fire in her stomach roared itself inside her chest. It burnt a path up her throat and curled itself around his tongue in her mouth. She wanted to give in. Wanted to satiate her lust and feed her hunger.

“Dean,” she whispered against his lips, pushing at his chest. She flicked her eyes up to him and twisted her mouth into one of regret, “go. Before your Dad gets pissed.”

“Screw him.”

“Ew, no thanks.” He screwed his face up and reeled back. Charlotte just chuckled and pulled on his neck to draw him in for a quick kiss. “Get gone Winchester.” And she leaned around him enough to slap his ass.

Dean raised his brows at her and grinned before he bent his knees a little bit, wrapped his hands around her thighs and pulled her up around him. She laughed, her arms going around his neck to steady herself as she grinned against him. “You still want me to go?” he whispered.

“Dean!”

He brushed his mouth up her neck and took slow measured steps towards the living room come library of Bobby's house. His mouth never left her neck as he teased the warm skin there with his teeth. “Yeah?” he whispered against her neck.

She couldn't help the slight tilt of her head to give Dean more room. A smile was stuck on her face as she let her body give in _for now_. “Fuck,” she muttered after a few more teasing bites. She felt his legs bump into something and tried to pull her face away with fail, “let a girl think.”

“You don't need to do any thinking for what I have in mind.”

Before she could say anything else he was easing her down until she felt the arm of the couch underneath her. She blinked up at him and let him gently ease her back until she was lying across the couch, her legs dangling over the armrest. He hovered above her, a knowing look on his face as he simply moved his eyes over her.

She swallowed and felt the warmth between her legs start.

Dean leaned down, brushed his mouth over hers and she parted her lips with a sigh, a flush working its way over her cheeks. He was gentle and soft as he moved his mouth slowly over her jaw and over her neck. He bit down and she gasped before she slowly let her head roll back, much to Dean's amusement as he chuckled against her throat. 

Charlotte closed her eyes and let her mind get lost in the sensation of Dean moving down her, over her. His hands crept up her sides, inching her shirt up as they went and she let Dean take control because  _god_ could she not think straight right now. She lifted one hand to thread her fingers through his hair, her fingers tugging gently every now and then. 

Dean flicked his eyes up to her with raised brows and she shrugged, “What?”

He held her gaze for a moment before he moved down and kissed the exposed spot between her breasts. Charlotte licked her lips as she watched Dean's mouth move down, over her stomach, tracing invisible lines until he reached the top of her jeans and he lifted his head then with a mischievous grin. He traced his hands over the button and zipper, moved his hands further to trail down the insides of her thighs before he dragged them back up, brushing against her centre, before he started to undo her jeans. Dean straightened up enough to tug her jeans and underwear down and around her ankles. 

Charlotte watched him lean down and trace warm, soft kisses to the insides of her thighs. She shivered, feeling his fingers lightly flit across her skin and just the anticipation was doing crazy things to her libido. Dean's hands wormed their way to her hips and suddenly he pulled on her waist, dragging her hips up onto the armrest of the couch and she snapped her eyes up and over her body. Dean was between her legs, on his knees with a glazed look to his eyes that made Charlotte's breath hitch in her throat.

He kissed his way up her thighs again and with each nearing inch to her centre Charlotte found it harder and harder to breathe. She rolled her head back when she felt him flick his tongue out and catch her nub, elating a small moan from her mouth. She could feel Dean grin and ground her teeth together as he traced her wetness with his tongue. “Fuck,” she muttered breathlessly, “I hate you Dean.”

Dean pulled away to chuckle and he turned his head to kiss her thigh. “I hate you too Princess.”

She grinned and lifted her head to whisper, “Dick.”

“Bitch,” he threw back before he leaned back in and pushed his tongue inside of her. He pressed it deep, swirling his tongue to explore her, a groan starting low in his stomach as he listened to her stilted breathing and felt her hips jerk towards him. He kept his hands on her waist, keeping her pulled close as he worked his tongue faster. 

“God,” she moaned and Dean pulled his tongue away to swirl the tip of it around the bundle of nerves at her centre, enjoying the way it made her arch her back with a roll of her head. He pressed his mouth to that same bundle and sucked gently, a moan in his throat as he felt her arch her back against him. He brought one hand up and teased two fingers just inside of her entrance. “Dean,” she groaned and he lifted his head with a smile. She stared down at him and he watched her raise one hand and make a gesture for him to come to her.

“I'm in the middle of some-”

“Dean,” she almost growled.

He chuckled and stood to lean over her, his face next to hers and his lips brushing hers, his hand still pressed against her. “Yes Charlotte?” he whispered against her mouth.

She blinked up at him and reached up to catch his bottom lip between her teeth and she pulled gently. One of her hands worked over his chest and back, her fingers teasing the skin as she worked it down to his hips and the jeans that he still wore. When she finally released his lip, she grinned and whispered, “Get on with it.”

He laughed and kissed her nose, “So impatient.”

She laughed lowly up at him and he jerked as he felt her cup him through his jeans, “I've got stuff to do.”

“More important than this?”

“At this rate.”

“Well,” he said and he licked his lips, his tongue briefly catching her mouth, “guess I better get on with it then.” He didn't move away from her, just worked his hands over his own jeans and wallet to wrap up and he kissed her hard, slipping his tongue between her lips with a quiet moan. His jeans pooled around his ankles and he grabbed her waist to pull her up and towards him before he gently moved his hips against hers. She gasped against his mouth, one hand twisted into his hair and he pushed himself into her in one swift move. Her mouth slipped open with a moan and Dean wrapped one arm around her with a groan of his own before he started to roll his hips.

The angle of her hips only helped him to thrust deep and hard into her, his mouth bruising hers as he worked up a quick pace. Her legs came up to wrap around his waist and Dean dug his fingers into her hips to keep her pulled close to him. When he felt her legs tighten he groaned deeply, “Fuck,” he muttered, feeling the knot in his stomach.

He thrusted harder and faster, needing the release now as he felt her begin to shake underneath him, her fingers digging into him. “Dean,” she whined against his mouth and he nodded as he kissed her neck with warm sloppy kisses. He felt her clench around him, felt her shake and her hips jerk against him with an arch of her back and he thrusted deeply a few more times before he joined her, his face buried in her neck and his hips shuddering against her.

They lay there across the couch, chests heaving and grins wide on their faces. Charlotte was the first to talk or move with a pat to Dean's side, “Move.”

“Five more minutes,” he muttered and he wrapped his arms more tightly around her. He ran his nose up and down her neck, earning a laugh from her.

“Dean, move.”

He lifted his head to look down at her with a lazy smile, “If I didn't know any better I'd say that you were trying to get rid of me.”

She shrugged a shoulder and trailed a hand through his hair, “So what if I am.”

He grinned, “Bitch,” and pecked her mouth.

“Dick,” she muttered back as he pulled away from her to grab his own jeans and pull them up. She watched him disappear up the stairs to the bathroom and settled on getting her own clothes back on.

By the time he came back downstairs shirtless, she already had one of the phones pressed to her ear, the last vestiges of a faked order on her lips as she hung up. Dean grabbed his shirt and pulled it on as he eyed her once more. “I guess I should get going then,” he said as he moved to grab his jacket and slip his arms through the sleeves. He grinned with his next words, “You and your little girlfriend, whoever she is, you can do whatever the hell you want and I'll have to imagine the dirty things you two will get up to."

He winked and she rolled her eyes with a smile. "Sure, fine, whatever. Imagine all you want Winchester. Nothing will be true."

"Oh I'm sure it will be."

She shook her head with a smirk, grabbed a beer and took a sip whilst Dean checked that he had everything. Two minutes later and he had his car keys in his hands. "Alright," he said, eyes travelling around the room for one more cursory glance. "I'll see you then."

And his eyes were on hers. She tilted her head forward. "Goodbye Dean."

"You two have fun," and he winked as he left. Even as the engine of the Impala was vanishing she was shaking her head.

The next couple of hours she had to herself and she worked on double checking the newspaper, calling Bobby up and even reading up on bits of lore and cleaning up. She was halfway through an interesting piece on Changelings when there was a knock at the door. Charlotte rushed to finish the sentence she was on before she jumped up and answered the door to Jo.

She stepped into the house without further invitation and dumped her bag. "Where's Bobby?"

"Arkansas. He'll be back in a couple of days."

"So we have the house to ourselves?"

She rolled her eyes with a smirk. "Don't get any ideas."

"I'm kidding." And she threw herself onto the couch. "I'm glad to be out of there."

"Okay," Charlotte said and she sat herself on the other side of the couch. "What's happened this time?"

Jo glanced at her for a second before she bit into what it was. She'd been talking in depth to a few of the customers about hunting and she'd expressed wishes to go along with them. Her mother had heard and had told her not in a hell's chance. That devolved into their usual arguments that Jo wasn't allowed to do anything and eventually they'd ended up just spitting words at each other.

Charlotte sighed once the eighteen year old had finished and levelled a gaze with her. "Your mum's just trying to look out for you."

"I'm eighteen. I can take care of myself."

"Not like that," she said. She struggled for words before she managed to squeeze a few out between her teeth. "Hunting is never pretty." That got Jo's attention and Charlotte found the words forming in her mouth. "Somebody dies. Always. That's the rule. And it's usually never pretty. As a Hunter it's your job to see the bloody and messy body, to see the carcass that the creature has left behind. That alone can give you nightmares."

Jo turned her eyes to the floor. "I'm fine."

"Are you? Have you ever seen a dead body? Ever?"

Jo shuffled. "I've got a good stomach."

"It's not about having a good stomach. It's about keeping yourself grounded when you see that body. It's about not letting it get to you. After that it's about being able to look grieving people in the face, lie to them and ask them the awkward questions that make them kick you out of their house. Then comes the figuring out the creature and hunting the creature."

Jo lifted her eyes and shrugged. "I can do that. I can do all of that. You've done it!"

Charlotte rolled her eyes and twisted her body away from her. "My first actual hunt, doing _all_ of that, was when I was with Bobby. I still remember the first time I saw a body. It wasn't pretty and I can still see it in my head."

"But you hunt."

"Okay," Charlotte said, deciding to go for a different approach. "And when you're alone digging up the freshly deceased grave that belongs to a ghost, when you have to find lamb's blood to kill a Djinn, or when you have to tell some poor soul that they're a werewolf and they need to put down then, could you handle that?"

Then Jo was frowning. "You know what, it was a mistake coming here." She stood and made a start to grab her stuff.

"Jo, wait," Charlotte was up and trying to block her path.

"No. When you back my mother up-"

"I'm trying to give you a life. You haven't hunted. You haven't seen the things I have. You haven't suffered like I have, like the rest of us have."

"I lost my Dad."

"And I lost both my folks. But my Dad couldn't get himself out of the business. Your Mum got you out. My opinion and advice would be to stay out."

They stood there, staring for several seconds before Jo folded her arms. "What exactly are you saying?"

Charlotte sighed and offered her an honest look. "If you end up hunting, fair enough, but I'm asking that for now, just enjoy what freedom from the job you have. Enjoy not having to risk your life for others with them telling you to get the hell out of town. Please. For your Mum at least."

Silence struck and Jo finally unfolded her arms. "Fine. But you better have beer."

And Charlotte smiled. "We always have beer." And Jo was smiling just enough to make Charlotte relax. The next few days were spent just talking about how any decent guy would never understand them, wondering about hunting, reading on lore and answering phones.

By the time Bobby returned Jo was ready to leave happier then she arrived.


	25. 2005 - November

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so this is the second episode of season one, Wendigo. Here's my take on how Charlotte would appear in that episode. Please let me know what you think and if you'd rather see this as one large story or several smaller ones. Thank you,

_Colorado – Black water ridge_

Charlotte stretched out the map before her. She’d already gone through all the facts with Bobby. Every 23 years something took a number of campers and the local grizzlies, unfairly, got the blame. She’d run through the lay of the land with the man, going over hotspots to check out and areas that were being targeted over others, and he’d agreed that something was off. After she’d dug around she’d managed to find a few older maps which showed mine shafts which was perfect for the kind of creature she had in mind. In her opinion they were worth looking into.

Charlotte had put forward the idea of a Wendigo and Bobby had frowned. “They don’t go out that far.”

“It’s still something to check out though right.”

“I want you to be extra careful you hear? Wendigo's are far from pleasant.”

“Yeah, they store humans up like squirrels and nuts.”

“This ain't no damned ghost. This thing'll-”

“Eat me, I know. I'll be careful and I’ll call in every day, I’ll pack extra weapons.”

“Alright, well call me if anything goes hinky.”

“Will do.”

So, after spreading the map on the hood of her car and figuring out where she was and where to go, and folding it back up, here she was traipsing through woods with a bag full of flare guns, aerosol’s and lighters. She eyed the map. With a frown she pointed her torch at the map and at the compass, checking the co-ordinates against her location. The light flickered in front of her, disappearing among the dark branches and the trees to be swallowed by the shadows. She sighed. “Where the hell is it?”

A growl emanated behind her. She dropped the map, pulled out her gun and turned. Before she had a chance to let a shot off the creature had already rushed by her and knocked her off her feet. The gun and torch fell from her hands and she cursed, turned over and tried to search for them again. The torch was gone and she stilled. Darkness pressed itself against her, too strong for her to be comfortable.

Leaves rustled to her left, to her right, ahead of her. Her heart pounded inside her rib cage and she bit the inside of her bottom lip. “Okay,” she whispered to herself, “relax. It’s just a creature that knows how to taunt and is a perfect hunter. Relax Dixon.”

There was a growl to her right, too close for comfort, and she slowly turned her head. The moon gave enough light to illuminate the ridges of an ugly face, leather skin and sharp teeth. “Shit,” she hissed and she scrambled to her feet and ran, her gun and bag gone from her mind. Branches snapped behind her and she dodged and weaved between the trees heading for what she hoped was her car. She could hear it getting closer and she grimaced. After several minutes of running she stopped and listened.

Nothing.

Her chest heaved and she peered into the darkness. Waiting. Staring. Listening.

There was a roar behind her and her heart stopped. She pinched her eyes shut and turned. Pried one eye open and sighed with relief. Nothing. Then there was a thud behind. She rolled her eyes with a grimace and heard the hand that knocked her to the ground and out.

 _He stared, itching to do something. But he couldn't, he_ shouldn't _. He ground his teeth together and watched as the Wendigo gathered her up, threw her over its shoulder and stalked off back to its place back into the mines._

 _He took slow, careful breaths and tried to think about this logically, for_ her _sake. He closed his eyes and prayed, begged his Father that she would be safe. He didn't want to risk everything now._

When she awoke it was cold. And dark. It took a few moments for her to differentiate between shadows and the black spots that lingered. Her breath was sharp as she inhaled and it bit the inside of her ribs. There was a numbness to her arms and she couldn't tell why just yet.

“Hey, you okay? What’s your name?”

She flicked blue eyes around to spot another person, odd bits of light showing a few of his features. She carried on looking around the rest of the small room and spotted another limp body. The guy who'd spoken had his arms raised and her eyes travelled with them to see him hanging by a rope. That’s when it clicked that this thing had tied her up and hung her like meat, waiting its turn to be eaten. “Peachy.”

“You the rescue party?”

She gave a single laugh and flicked her eyes up to him with a grin, “Didn’t realise someone needed rescuing.” She pulled on her bindings and groaned as they refused to give way. The muscles in her shoulders protested and she let her body swing helplessly with a groan. “What’s your name?”

“Tommy. What was that thing?”

“Ugh, Wendigo. Maybe. I’d hate to think it is.”

“What’s a Wendigo?”

Her eyes turned back to Tommy and she shrugged. “It’s like a guy who decided instead of starving to death he would eat his camp mates. Soon, after years of eating human flesh,” she tried to pull on the rope again, “they become this faster, stronger, tougher thing. Only fire kills it. Everything else just pisses it off.” There was a shuffling of feet and she stopped moving.

“It’s coming back,” Tommy cried.

“Don’t panic. Just be quiet,” she hissed.

They both stilled and Charlotte kept one eye pried slightly open. The other camper decided to wake up then and she turned her eyes towards him. The guy started yelling and the Wendigo approached him and tore his flesh with its teeth. She ground her teeth and pinched her eyes shut, silently telling him sorry for the horrible death.

It took a while for the creature to be satisfied and once it was it disappeared back off into the mines. She waited until she couldn’t hear it before she turned back to Tommy. “My name’s Charlotte by the way.”

“How do you know so much about it?”

“Err,” she found a smirk curling her bottom lip, “it’s a family tradition kind of.”

“So are we alone? Is that thing going to eat us?”

“No Tommy no it’s not. It’s had a fill for now so it won’t need to eat for a long time. Wendigo’s like to store up their food for the winter. Like squirrels and nuts.”

“But it’s not winter.”

“The Wendigo’s winter lasts for twenty years. We’ll be rescued before then.”

“And how do you know that?”

She sighed and tried to pull on her ropes again. Her feet didn’t quite touch the floor and her shoulders were beginning to grow sore from the lack of blood making its way to them. “I've got a friend who's expecting me to call. Let’s just, focus on trying to get out of here.”

“Okay.” Silence surrounded them and it took a while before Tommy sighed. “I don’t see a way out.”

Charlotte sighed internally and tried to wriggle her legs to give her some help in trying to loosen the ropes. It wasn’t working and she was quickly growing tired. Eventually her eyes closed and she found herself slumbering despite wanting to stay awake, her muscles too exhausted to protest.

When she awoke her arms were numb again. She tried to find any source of light that wasn’t shadows to gauge whether it was night or day. There was nothing and she was left in the dark feeling vulnerable. She hated it.

The hours passed and her mood was dropping and fast. “Where are you you son of a bitch,” she muttered. The dried blood on her face and the flakes of dirt and leaves were starting to piss her off. Eventually she found her eyes dropping and sleep taking her over once more.

_The Winchester's. He frowned. It was something at least, even if the brothers didn't have much experience together, they were better than nothing. If Dean hadn't gotten himself caught too._

_He followed Sam and even hinted him in the direction to go, guiding him to the survivors, his brother and Charlotte. At least now he didn't have to intervene and she wouldn't have to suffer._

The next time she awoke it was to a shriek and she jerked.

“Charlotte?”

Her eyes struggled to search out the source of the voice. It was familiar. “Sam?”

“Charlotte?”

“Dean?” She groaned and finally she could see the boys in the dark. Along with a woman and another guy. “What happened to Stanford?”

“Long story,” Sam said.

Then she was cut down and she fell into Sam. “Thanks.”

“What are you doing all the way out here? Being captured?” Dean asked.

Charlotte turned her glare to a smirking Dean. The blood was clear on his face. “You didn’t far too better.” She noticed that he was holding something and she nodded to it as she stretched out her tired limbs. “What’s that?”

“Flare guns.”

“That’ll work,” Sam said.

It didn’t take long until they were moving. Dean and Sam led the way with a flare gun each and Charlotte limped along between them. The family of three siblings were holding each other up as they ambled along. They’d gotten five minutes through the mines before they heard the familiar growling of the Wendigo. Eventually Dean said, “Sam’s going to lead you out of here.” And he threw himself as bait after winking at Hayley, “Chow time, you freaky bastard! Yeah, that’s right, bring it on, baby, I taste _good_.”

Charlotte shook her head as they moved in the opposite direction to the older Winchester. It wasn’t long before Sam pulled the same stunt when growling was heard again. “Get them out of here,” he ordered her.

She nodded and tried to push the trio along. “Move it! Go!” She passed one more look over her shoulder before she disappeared. There was a gun shot and seconds later Sam appeared running. “Run!” They didn’t get far as the end of a tunnel faced them and they turned. Both Sam and Charlotte ushered the other three behind themselves. “Come on you ugly son of a bitch,” Charlotte muttered, arms raised and ready for a fight.

“Hey!”

All eyes turned past the Wendigo to see Dean fire the flare gun and hit the Wendigo. It went up in flames and everybody sighed in relief. It wasn’t long before they were limping out of the mines, Sam offering to give Charlotte a hand before she waved him off. When they reached the rangers station there was an ambulance waiting and Charlotte followed Tommy to the ambulance. “Told you rescue was coming,” she smirked down at him.

He chuckled and winced as one of the EMT’s pressed something against a wound. “Yeah. You did.”

One of the EMT’s tried to offer Charlotte some medical help and she shook her head, “I’m fine. Listen Tommy, no more camping in woods where people have gone missing yeah? I don’t want to be called out to fail to rescue you again.”

“Well I wouldn’t mind.”

“Well I wouldn’t,” she grinned and winked, “but blood puts a dampener on any mood.”

Tommy chuckled. “Thank you Charlotte.”

She raised her brows. “I wasn’t much of a rescue.”

“No, but you helped. I wasn’t alone.”

She ducked her head with a tight smile and nodded. “Take care.” Her phone burst out in Johnny Cash’s _Ring of fire_ and she cursed into the speaker, “I’m fine.”

“Where the hell have you been?”

“Kidnapped by a Wendigo. But I’m fine. I’m out. I’m alive. The things dead.”

“Dammit Charlotte!”

“What? Bobby, I’ll be back in a couple of days alright?”

“You better be.” And he hung up.

She sighed and came to stand next to Sam as they waited for Dean. “So what did happen to Stanford?” He sighed and turned his eyes upon her. In that one look she knew it wasn’t good and her face fell. In a whisper she said, “Who died?”

“Jess.”

“Shit Sam, I’m- I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.”

Dean appeared and he clapped his hands together. There was a grin on his face as he turned his eyes upon Charlotte. “So, I saved your ass. _Asses_ actually.”

The other two rolled their eyes and Charlotte slapped him on the back of the head. “Grow up asshole.”

He seemed to recoil at that. “Okay,” he said with a frown.

“I’ve had a bad couple of days. I want to catch up on my sleep, get a hot shower and forget about these woods.”

“You need a ride?”

She shook her head with a smirk, “Nope.” And she made a bee line straight for her Pontiac.

“Nice,” Sam said. To Dean, “I’m driving.” And he didn’t argue.

“Hey!” She turned away from the open driver’s door to look over at Dean. “How about a bite to eat?”

“Sure. I’ll meet you there.” Ten minutes later Charlotte was in her motel room stripping as she made a line to the bathroom. The shower was on and the hot water was very pleasurable, a welcome change to the cold, damp dirt she'd had to wear for the past few hours. “Awww,” she let out with a grin. Blood and dirt circled the drain and for several minutes she just stood there, letting the water wash over her.

A knock at her door grabbed her attention. With a frown she turned the water off, wrapped a towel around herself and grabbed the 9mm pistol she left on the night stand. She held it to the motel room door and peeked through the eye hole. She sighed when she saw who was on the other side, tossed her gun onto the bed and pulled the door open and turned her back on them to give them room to enter. “You guys following me or something?”

She could feel two sets of eyes on her and she turned blue eyes over her shoulder. Dean was smirking whilst Sam quickly turned his gaze away. “We erm,” the younger Winchester started and he cleared his throat, “we’re in room three, saw you pull in before and we thought we’d grab some food to take out.”

“Oh. Sweet.” She turned back to them and took a step towards them. “What’d you get?”

They stepped into the room, Dean depositing two bags onto the table and Sam closing the door. Sam stayed facing the motel door as he spoke, “Erm, Charlotte, you think you could put some clothes on?”

She looked down and her face dropped. “Oh, right, sorry. Yeah.” She turned, grabbed a set of clothes from her bag and moved back into the bathroom. Two minutes later and she stopped as she stepped out of the bathroom. “Dean.” The man dropped the bra he’d been holding with a smirk and stared at her. “Touch my shit again and I’ll break your leg.”

“Noted.”

“So what were you doing here anyway?” Sam asked, ignoring the exchange.

Charlotte shrugged as she grabbed a box of Chinese food. “I knew there was something weird going on with missing campers over the years so I came to investigate.” She took a bite of food and opened a beer. “What about you two?”

“Oh just something we found a little weird too,” Dean said.

“Dad sent us,” Sam said, eyes fixed on Dean.

“If you two start having a domestic I’m gonna kick you out.” Both boys turned to stare at her and she only carried on eating her food as if nothing had happened. Eventually the mood levelled out and they spent the next hour eating, drinking and talking about what they’d been doing in the past year. By the time morning came they said their goodbyes and departed in opposite directions.

 


	26. 2006 - February

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

Bobby opened the door to a smiling set of Winchester brothers. Dean was grinning whilst Sam offered the man a half smile. “Hey Bobby,” Dean said.

The man offered the pair a smile and shifted from the doorway. “Dean, Sam,” he narrowed his eyes at Sam. “I thought you were at college?”

Sam’s gaze fell away and he nodded. “Yeah, it erm, it didn’t work out me.”

“Sorry to hear that.” The pair of boys traipsed in then and Bobby closed the door. “Where’s your Dad anyway Dean? I thought you and he were hunting together?”

Dean gave an awkward single chuckle. “What? A guy can’t hunt on his own?” Bobby frowned and Dean sighed. “I don’t know where he is alright? He’s, somewhere.”

The older man pulled a face and turned to the kitchen. He removed the lid from a pan and peered inside. “Hey Charlotte!”

There was a delay before she shouted back, “What?”

“It’s bubbling!”

“So stir it!”

Bobby rolled his eyes and did as instructed. He replaced the lid and turned to see Dean and Sam staring at him. “What? She’s cooking something.”

“She out back?” Dean asked.

“No,” Bobby said and he grabbed three beers from the fridge. He handed one to each boy and opened the third for himself. “She’s getting ready.”

“For what?”

She appeared then with a light _thud_ on the floor. “How’s it looking?” she asked Bobby.

“Is it ready yet?”

She chuckled and noticed the Winchesters then. Both of them were staring. “What?”

“Nothing,” they both said, badly covering up the fact that they had been staring. She looked down at herself and sighed. “You look-” Sam started.

“Wow,” Dean finished.

Again she rolled her eyes and stepped around the pair of them to lift the lid on the pan. “Close your mouths morons.” The dress she wore reached to just above her knees in a loose black skirt that reached up to a black band. Above this was the blue and white striped strapless top half of the ensemble. Simple black sneakers finished the look. “Okay,” she said. “Give it another couple of minutes and it should be ready.” She turned back to the boys. “There should be enough for you two as well.”

“Where are you going?” Sam asked.

“A date.” Matter of fact.

“With who?” Dean said.

Charlotte only turned with a sigh. “A guy. A student teacher at the local school. He’s a nice guy.”

Sam asked, “How’d you two meet?”

“Really?” Dean turned to his brother. At the blank stare Dean shook his head with a frown. “Chick.” And he moved to the living room with mild disinterest.

“Anyway,” Charlotte continued, “erm, he called for a tow and I ended up being the one to fix his car. Bobby was out helping some hunter with a serious case of Vampires.”

“Well I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks.” She grabbed three dishes and started to deal out the food. “I hope you guys like sausage casserole.” The first dish was passed to Bobby, the second to Sam and the last one to Dean. He took it with a smirk to his lips and let his eyes roll up and down her body with wriggling brows. “Grow up,” she muttered.

“You look nice,” he said. Then he winked, took his bowl and left.

She rolled her eyes and moved to the living room. Her jacket had been thrown over the couch and she shook it on. A set of headlights moved across the windows and she turned to face the three guys. “Don’t wait up for me. I mean it.”

“I won’t,” Bobby said. She pulled the handle of her bag over her shoulder and opened the door. “Have fun.”

“I will,” she muttered before she left.

“You know the guy right?” Dean said.

Bobby let his spoon fall into the bowl and looked at the older Winchester. “Alex is sound. He ain’t a hunter. He’s a teacher. Ain’t like he’s gonna kill her.”

“And you know that for sure?” Sam asked.

Again the older man levelled a gaze with the brothers. “You really think that Charlotte can’t protect herself from a twenty something year old who likes to teach maths? If anything I’d worry for him if he did something wrong.”

“We’re just making sure,” Dean said.

“Whatever,” the man said before he busied himself with his food once more. Once they’d finished with their food Sam took to reading through some of the lore books, after telling Bobby briefly that law school just wasn’t for him. Dean took to checking over his car and making sure everything still worked whilst Bobby worked the phones and worked on towing in a couple of vehicles. He’d even been able to rope Dean into helping fix a couple of vehicles.

By the time eleven started to roll around Bobby bid his good nights and Sam said he would find a motel. Bobby had told him that there was the couch and that there was one spare bed. Sam grabbed the bed before Dean could say anything and left the man alone.

He chose to read the paper, maybe find another job, before he opted for grabbing one of the books Sam had been reading to flick through it.

When Charlotte got back he was fully engrossed in a chapter in a book on the lore of gnomes. He didn’t even think they were a thing and this was starting to make him reconsider. The car she’d come back in was thrumming something awful outside and he could hear the faint whisper of voices. “I would love to go out again. I mean it, this was fun Alex.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad you had fun. Is there a chance we can catch dinner tomorrow?”

“Erm, yes. I will make it happen. Tell you what, how’d you feel about Chinese?”

“Great.”

“Cool.”

“See you tomorrow then.”

“You bet,” and Dean waited for a good three minutes before he heard her voice again. “Bye.”

When she did enter it had gone twelve and there was a large dumb ass smile on her face. “What’cha reading?”

“Gnomes,” he said. Then he closed the book and retook his beer. “So what’d you guys do?”

“Dinner and a movie at his place.”

“You went to this guy’s place?”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s not a shifter, not a revenant, demon or anything else supernatural. He’s genuinely a nice guy who doesn’t ask about what I do outside of fixing cars.”

“So he has no idea. At all?”

She shook her head and grabbed a beer from the fridge. The lid was off and deposited in the bin before she stretched herself across the couch. “So have you guys just been reading all this time?”

Dean stood up and sat down on the other end of the couch. Her feet shuffled up against the side of his thigh and her skirt shifted just slightly up her thigh. “Sammy was. Bobby roped me into fixing a few cars for him.”

“Ah, that explains the smell of grease and metal.”

Dean chuckled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Uh huh,” she said and she sipper her beer. “Hey Dean-”

“Yeah?”

She frowned into her bottle for several seconds before she opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “You ever think that maybe there’s somebody out there. Somebody who you could drop this thing, the hunting, for? Ever?”

Now he frowned at her. “Are we, we’re not having, you know, a chick flick moment are we?”

She kicked his leg gently. “Fuck you,” she muttered with a laugh.

“Oh you already have done.” And he winked at her. She kicked him again. “Okay, you think you can have a life with this Alice dude?”

“Alex,” she halted her next words, mouth hung open momentarily before she said. “Is that jealousy I hear?”

“What?” he shoved her legs from him and stood him. “No.”

She quirked her brow at him. “Alright, joking aside, do you seriously want to be hunting for the rest of your life?”

He shook his head. “I’m not, I’m not doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“I don’t know! Maybe. I would possibly like the idea of maybe not hunting anymore. What’s brought this up anyway?”

She shrugged her shoulders and played with the label of her bottle. “Just curious. I wouldn’t know what I’d do. I mean, it’d be nice to not have to worry about dying or you know, risking my life to save other peoples. But at the same time, I’m helping people.” She shrugged again. “I don’t know.”

Dean stared at her for several seconds before he pointed. “Okay, where’s the bitch we all know and love?”

“Fuck you,” she stood with a laugh and finished off her bottle. She grabbed another. “I’m going to get some shut eye.”

“If you need somebody to hold you and fix that urge rising down there…”

“I can deal with it myself. I’ve been doing it for nine years so I know what I’m doing.”

Dean let the words play over inside his head and a smirk started to form. “So you first touched yourself at fourteen?”

“What? Were you whacking away at twelve?”

“And we’re back,” he muttered with a smirk before he finished his own beer and kicked his shoes off, ready to settle into the couch.

 


	27. 2006 - March

_Illinois - Galesburg_

Charlotte sighed as she shovelled dirt to the side. She’d been digging for a good hour already and it felt like she hadn’t gotten anywhere. She gripped the top of her shovel and let her head fall back to feel the chilled wind across her face, giving her muscles a break. “How deep do they bury people out here?”

There had been a ghost problem. Three family’s had lost somebody because of some college prank gone wrong that happened ten years ago. The graveyard was being relocated somewhere out of town and the ghost wanted its revenge before it was out of spitting distance.

So here she was , just after eleven at night, hanging out in a graveyard. Nothing but her, the shovel, dirt, a ring of salt and the torch to light her way. Not to mention the eyes of a ghost watching from a distance. She eyed the spectral figure and glared at it. There was a ring of salt around the graveyard and pile of upturned dirt. “What?” she asked it.

It stared.

“Whatever,” she muttered. She grabbed the shovel and pushed it hard into the dirt. Then she hit wood. A smile broke out and she worked quickly to break the lid of the coffin open to see the old, rotting corpse that made her wrinkle her nose in disgust. That never got any easier. The wind picked up then and she eyed the ghost. It stood right outside the ring of salt. And the salt was disappearing. “Son of a-” she grabbed the lighter fluid and salt, piled them beneath her, climbed out and fumbled for the matches in her pockets.

She’d managed to get two matches lit when the salt line broke. She dropped them into the grave, felt herself get thrown across the graveyard and hit a gravestone before she heard the howl of the ghost as it went up in flames. Black spots played on her vision and she pulled herself up, wincing at the sharp pain in her left arm and she ignored it. For a moment she stood, watching the flames, before she grabbed the shovel, turned and left. She shrugged and rolled her left shoulder as she stretched out her arm, wincing slightly. “Please just bruise, please don't be a break,” she mumbled to herself.

Her feet hadn’t even reached her car when her phone started to go. With a frown she fished it out and placed it to her ear, “Hello?”

“Charlotte?”

“Dean?”

“Where are you?”

She balanced holding the shovel and her phone with getting her keys out of her pocket and opening the trunk of her car. “Illinois, just finished with a ghost. What are you and Sam up to?”

“Oh we just finished up a job with a Revenant up in St Louis.”

“Ooh,” she said. The shovel fell into the car with a _clank_ against the rest of the supplies in there and she grabbed a duffle bag. “Bet that wasn’t fun.”

Dean chuckled, “No, no it wasn’t. And I was thinking, we could meet up and just talk you know? Kick back and relax for a few hours?”

“Sure, I can dig that.” She smirked. The phone was wedged between her ear and shoulder as she searched for a towel and some water to clean herself up with. “You’re bringing the beer though.”

“No problem.”

“Where am I meeting you?”

“I’ll send you the address.”

And the line cut off. Seconds later an address showed up on her phone and she put it away as she wiped at her face and clothes. Minutes later she pulled out of the graveyard and onto the quiet highway.

_Missouri – St Louis_

She slowed her car as she reached the house Dean had given the address for. A frown was fixed to her features and she stopped the car just outside the house. She was expecting a motel or even an abandoned ready to be sold house. Not a house that looked lived in, used. She pulled herself out of the car and checked the roads up and down before she stared back at the house.

After a few seconds she started walking up the small series of steps to the front door and knocked. Through the window she watched a figure approach and open the door. Dean. “Make yourself at home,” he said, leaving the door open for her to close.

She stepped in, closed the door and followed after him into the living room. It was clearly somebody’s house. “Where’s the owner?”

He turned his head over his shoulder and in the flickering light of the fireplace she saw a faint smirk. “Left town whilst me and Sammy took care of business.”

“Speaking of Sammy,” she said. Dean traipsed through to the kitchen and returned with two beers. “Where is he?” She took one and sat with him on the couch in front of the fire. “And what’s with the fire?”

“Oh that,” he eyed the flickering flames. “We wanted to keep it on the down low that we’re here. Didn’t want neighbours to get too suspicious.”

“Right,” she said. Stranger things had happened. “And Sam?”

“Upstairs,” he pointed to the ceiling. “Sleeping.”

She nodded and a faint smile started to play on her lips. “So you asked me all the way out here to get me alone? To talk?”

For several seconds Dean just stared at her, mouth propped open before he laughed. “Well,” and he turned his eyes back to her with a grin. “It’s been a rough few days.”

She rolled her eyes and stood, “My God,” there was a smirk on her own features, “you are such a slut.”

“And you're a whore.” His hand whipped out to grab hers as he settled his beer down with his other hand, “Come here,” and he pulled her with a shriek onto his lap. He fell against the back of the couch with a grin and lifted a hand to place a finger against her lips. “Shhh, you’ll wake Sammy.”

In a hushed tone she pulled away from his finger and said, “You started it.” Again he laughed, pulling his hand away to settle it on her waist and she shuffled to place her beer down onto the side table. “Dean Winchester,” she started. She turned back to face him and said, “Anybody ever tell you you’re a fiend?”

“Only a sex fiend,” and he winked.

She sighed with a roll of her eyes and tried to shuffle off of him back onto the couch. He refused to move his arms from around her waist and she pulled on his arms. “Dean, let go. I need the bathroom.”

“But you just got here.”

“Yeah,” she pushed on his arms again and the smirk was gone. “And I only just finished a hunt. In case you hadn’t noticed I’ve still got bits of graveyard dirt stuck to me.”

“We’ve been in worse positions.”

“Dean,” she pushed on his chest now. In one fluid motion he’d rolled and had her pinned underneath him against the floor. The air was pushed from her lungs and she lay there, eyes fixed on his green ones with a worrying frown. “Dean,” she stretched, finally getting her breath back. “Get off.”

“No.”

And he forced his mouth on hers. She wriggled against him and finally managed to get her mouth free to shout, “Get off Dean!”

A strange smile curled his lips and the look stilled her wriggling. “I thought you liked it this way.”

She glared, chest heaving as worry and fear began to build itself up inside her chest. Something was off. He wasn’t a ghost. He wasn’t a ghoul. But something was off. Shifter? She didn’t know. Maybe. There were a number of other things that were possible and many that could fit the profile of looking and acting exactly like Dean, until this point. He wouldn’t have forced her to the floor, climbed on top of her and forced himself on her. Never.

“Who are you?”

“What?”

She glared harder. “Demon? Ghoul? Shifter? What are you?”

There were several seconds where he just looked at her with a frown. Then he sighed and his expression changed. And so did his eyes. A smirk grew and he said, “You tell me?”

“Shifter,” she whispered in surprise.

“Bingo. Now,” his eyes observed her body, “where were we?” Her heart jumped to her throat and she kicked her legs and pulled on her arms. Dean – _Shifter Dean_ she told herself, grabbed her wrists, forced his knees on either side of her hips and grinned down at her. “Now, now,” he mocked, “let’s make this painless. You know Dean really likes you right? Sorry,” he laughed half-heartedly. “ _I_ really like you.” And he kissed her roughly again.

She bit his bottom lip. He jerked away and wiped one hand across his face. “Go to hell,” she said as she swung with a fist. He caught it, glared and used his other fist to smash the side of her face. Her head twisted and she turned her head back with a daze. “Screw you.”

He laughed and threw another punch to same side of her face. Blood started to drop slowly down her face. “Oh you already have.”

“No,” she managed. “I screwed Dean. You’re not him.”

He growled and leaned in close to hiss in her ear. “I have his memories. I have his face, thoughts, emotions. I _am_ Dean.” And he got up off of her. She rolled onto her stomach and tried to push away the black spots on the edges of her vision. With a hiss she managed to get to her hands and knees before the fake Dean grabbed the back of her hair with one hand and pulled her to her feet. “Come here,” he growled and he dragged her across the room.

Despite the pain she stopped her feet, turned and did her best to bring a knee up to his groin area. It simply dropped her as she turned and she ended up falling onto her back. His hand was around her neck and he was atop her. “Don’t,” he whispered, “don’t make me hurt you.” She tried to speak around his fingers but she couldn’t. He leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes closed and said, “Charlotte, I don’t want to hurt you. I like you okay?”

“Go to hell,” she managed to squeeze through. His features changed and he slammed her head against the floor.

The black spots won then and she disappeared into oblivion.

 


	28. 2006 - March part 2

_Missouri – St Louis_

When Charlotte woke her head throbbed, her eyes stung with each blurry blink and her hands and feet felt numb. When she turned her head slowly to her hands she frowned. She could see the bare flesh of her arms marred by rope keeping her in place and she tried to tug her feet up only to find that they were bound too. Her heart started to pound and she tried to twist her wrists free, tried to pull on the rope but it wouldn't budge and panic started to work its way into her chest.

Dean- _fake_ Dean she reminded herself- jumped into her vision then, the blurriness finally disappearing. His hands landed on her knees and his familiar green eyes looked softly in hers. “How you feeling?” He gently squeezed his hands around her knees, meaning to be comfort if she wasn't tied to a chair with a headache.

“Peachy,” she mumbled with a glare at him, “What have you been doing in this town anyway?”

“Oh you know,” he said with a mischievous, cheeky smirk, “this and that.” He stood and turned to the table behind him. “Getting people thrown in jail, having fun, ruining lives. The usual.”

She rolled her eyes and tugged at the rope again, her eyes already seeking an exit from her situation. “Right. So how do you plan on ruining mine?”

He turned with a laugh and showed her the large knife in his hands. He toyed with the blade's edge, his fingertips dancing over it aimlessly as he spoke. “I already am. You see,” and he crouched down in front of her again. The blade’s edge traced a line along her thighs. “I’m Dean. I have his thoughts and stuff. So, I know…” the knife worked its way up to her waist, “what he’s,” he toyed with the button on her jeans with a smirk. “Thinking…” and he stood, the blades edge turning to worm its way up her stomach. He moved behind her, his free hand on one shoulder whilst his chin nestled itself on the other. In her ear he whispered “about you.”

The blade had worked its way over her breasts and toyed with the flesh below her neck. She turned her head away from him, a look of disgust on her face as she scoffed. His hand tightened its hold on her shoulder and she felt the blade bite at the flesh on her shoulder beneath his chin. She hissed and stared down at the red that started to stain her shirt. “He likes you,” Shifter Dean went on, “I mean, more than just your looks and what you bring to the bedroom.” The knife cut a long line across her forearm and ended at her elbow. “I mean, you are a complete bitch,” he growled and when he next spoke his voice was a low whisper hot in her ear, “But that somehow turns me on.”

He threw the knife to his other hand and held the blade to her neck. He pierced it just enough to elicit a drop of warm blood to start down her neck. “And I see you with other guys. _Hear_ you with other guys and,” he tutted and took a deep inhale that had her inching away. His free hand grabbed her chin and held her in place. “And I can’t help but to want to do you there and then. God I hate you,” he whispered finally and the knife cut deeply against her ribs, making her entire body tense.

The fake Dean crouched back down in front of her again and he looked up at her, his lips curled into a cruel smile. Her heart hammered away in her chest and she tried to shut out his words. She couldn’t and instead she told herself that it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true could it? “Fuck you,” she whispered finally, and turned her eyes to the window and stared out at the dark sky.

“Charlotte,” he whispered softly. She refused to look at him. He had been right. He was doing enough damage just by looking like Dean. “Look at me,” he whispered again and she felt her eyes water. Her body shook and she dug her fingers into the armrest of the chair. “Charlotte,” he whispered and he settled a hand on her knee. “Look at me,” he said a little louder and she ground her teeth together with a frown, trying to keep the fear in her stomach at bay. She didn't want to see him, didn't want to see the look in his eyes but he repeated himself with a loud, “Look at me!”

She twisted her head with a glare and said. “Go to hell you son of a bitch. I know Dean. I know that that’s not true.” He swiped the knife and his hand across one cheek and smirked as her skin split. Her cheek burned and she could feel the blood drip down.

“Oh it’s true Princess.” He stood. “Want to know a secret?” He was back behind her and whispering in her ear. “I. Love. You.” He inched his face forward to grin at her, raised his brows once and she turned her eyes away. “Oh I know, you can’t handle love right? Everybody who ever did love you died right? Mum? Dead. Dad? Dead. Uncles and Aunts? Dead. Family? Dead. Bobby? Well you know he’ll eventually die. Me? You probably think I’ll die before old age right?” He chuckled and swung an arm over her shoulders. _Just kill me_. “So what’s the point?” He laughed and dragged the knife down her thigh. A trail of red followed. “Here’s the point,” and he turned her face to his and kissed her softly. If she wasn’t tied to a chair and being cut open by a shifter that looked like Dean, she could have imagined it was him.

“And now,” he pulled away and stood back in front of her. “you get to watch your lover boy, me, Dean, kill you.” The knife was held in a tight grip and he pressed it to her throat. “Bye Charlotte.”

“Hey!”

Both Charlotte and the shifter fixed their eyes on another version of Dean. Two gun shots rang out and Charlotte watched as the fake Dean was thrown back and collapsed. Sam came in behind Dean and frowned at her. “Charlotte?”

“Untie me,” she ordered, not even meeting _Sam's_ eyes. She needed to move and to get away from here as fast as she could. “Now.”

“Okay,” he ducked down in front of her and started on one hand. Then he _saw_ her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She fixed a glare onto her face, refused to look at him, and pulled her hand free to work on the other wrist whilst Sam worked on one of her ankles.

Dean appeared once she’d jumped up from the chair and he was frowning. “What are you doing here?”

“ _You_ ,” she nodded to the shifter, “called me. Wanted to just talk and drink.”

“You okay?”

She turned on her heels and scooped up her jacket the shifter had stripped her off. “I’m fine.” She stuffed her arms into it and focused herself on being angry at the shifter. She didn’t feel vulnerable. Cheated. Lied to. Weak. Worried. Afraid. She wasn’t. _I’m fine_ she repeated to herself mentally. She screwed her hands into the corners of the pockets of her jacket and she turned her glare to the brothers. “Where are you staying?”

“Knights Inn,” Sam said.

“See you there,” she said and she turned.

“Wait! Charlotte!” Sam said. She stopped and turned, not once letting her glare leave. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

 _No._ She nodded. “I just need to clean up and find a place to stay the night.”

“You’re welcome to stay here,” a woman said that she hadn’t noticed before.

Charlotte turned to look at her, finally relenting on her glare. “Yeah, stay here,” Sam said.

She sighed. “Where’s the bathroom?”

The woman smiled and pulled her out of the room and up the stairs. “My name’s Becky I’m a friend of Sam’s.”

“Nice to meet you Becky, Charlotte, friend of both the brothers. Some days I wish I wasn’t.” There was a smirk to her mouth that had Becky giving a half laugh. She showed her the bathroom, handed her a couple of towels and said that she could have Zach’s room for the night. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

She shrugged. “You look like you need the sleep.”

Charlotte smiled half-heartedly and locked the bathroom door behind her. She leaned her back against it and slid down until she hit the floor. Her breathing hit a hitch and she just sat there, chest heaving and eyes dying to water. Her shoulders began to shake and she fisted her hands into the towels Becky had given her. After several seconds of grinding her teeth together she shoved herself to her feet and stalked to stand in front of the mirror. Tears had escaped and she could see one ready to drop across her cut cheek. The whisper of air reminded her that it still hurt and she pressed the towel against it. She pinched her eyes shut and let out a small groan before she pulled the towel away.

At least there was less blood now. Mechanically she worked on wiping the majority of the blood up and washing it away down the small sink. As the red circled the drain she stared into it, fingers gripping the porcelain basin tightly. The shifter’s face, _Dean’s face_ , was stuck in her mind with that twisted grin he had pulled. The way he seemed pleased with the pain he was putting her through.

She shook her head. _Shifter. Shifter. Shifter._ She repeated the words and pressed the towel to her wounds. The slight hiss that escaped was welcomed and she let the pain remind her that she was angry. Pissed. Not upset. No. Never upset.

A knock on the door had her frowning. “It’s Sam. I brought a med kit.” She stared at the door for a few more seconds before she opened it and moved back into the bathroom. He closed the door and turned to face her with a grim half smile. “How you doing?”

“I’m fine,” she sat herself on the closed toilet lid whilst Sam sat on the edge of the bath. He looked down at her with two raised brows. She rolled her eyes and averted her gaze. “I’m fine Sam. Just patch me up okay.”

“If you want to-”

“No, I do not want to talk about it. The shifter pretended to be Dean. Big deal. I’m over it.”

“Really?” She glared and thrust her arm into Sam’s lap. He sighed and started wiping at the thin cuts with alcohol wipes. “I’m just saying-”

“Sam, I will break your kneecaps.”

He chuckled. “I was wondering how long it would take before you threatened me.” She couldn’t help the smile. Sam had that effect. Well, so did Dean, but when Dean was a dick, unavailable or otherwise preoccupied, Sam did the job well. “But I mean it.” She sighed. “Just hear me out.” She turned her eyes onto his puppy dog brown ones and internally groaned. She hated that look. After a few seconds she nodded. “Thank you,” and he returned his eyes to her arms. Light bandages were being placed along them after tape had been applied to encourage the skin to heal. He’d managed to find some butterfly stitches to put across her face and his fingers brushed her warm cheeks. “You know I worry about you right? And I know that having something that looks like Dean attack you couldn’t be a pleasant experience.”

“Emphasis on attack.”

“But I want you to let me know the moment you’re not right?”

Silence enveloped them as he worked on her other arm before she spoke. “Are we having a chick flick? You know how I feel about them.”

“Yeah,” he laughed once, “I do.” He finished on her arm and looked up at her. “But I mean it.”

For several seconds she just looked at him. Then she stood, pulled her sleeves down and sighed. “I need some sleep.”

He frowned at her, just a fraction and relented. “Okay. Where are you sleeping?”

“Becky offered me Zach’s room. Which is where?” Sam followed her into the hallway and pointed to a door at the end. “Thanks.” She turned to the bedroom. When her hand touched the handle she turned to find Sam watching her. “I’ll be fine Sam. I promise.”

He smiled awkwardly and turned to leave down the stairs. “You can always call me. Anytime.”

“Sam you’re down the stairs.”

He shrugged. “So?”

She rolled her eyes with a smile. “Night Sam.” Once she was inside the bedroom and away from anyone she sighed and let her head fall against the cold wood. It was a welcome relief and she stood there in the silence for several seconds. She could hear faint murmurs from downstairs and sighed again. Charlotte turned to the room, dropped her jacket to the floor, kicked off her shoes and climbed into the bed. It was the best comfort she’d had all day. Her eyes were closed and the darkness pressed warmly against her.

But she couldn’t sleep.

The silver eyed Dean toyed on the edge of her vision, taunting and replaying its words to her. _I like you. When I see you with other guys, hear you with other guys… just want to do you. Turns me on_. Its hands on her. Mouth on hers. Kissing her. Everything was stuck and on a loop inside her head. She balled her hands up and felt the water begin to start again when a knock stopped the tears in their tracks. She held her breath and waited. Somebody cleared their throat and a voice stuttered, “Ch- Charlotte? It’s,” a sigh. “It’s Dean.”

The back of her throat dried up and she felt the tears push their way. But she bit them back. Forced her mouth to work and sat up, arms around her knees that stayed underneath the cover. “D- door’s open,” she managed to get out.

The wood was pushed open and Dean stood awkwardly in the doorway. His eyes were drawn together in worry and he looked the sorriest she’d ever seen him. Somehow the tears were forcing their way back and she felt her body tense. “Can I come in?”

She hesitated, felt a shiver run down her spine and drew her knees up a little closer to her chest. Swallowed back a lump and nodded.

 


	29. 2006 - March part 3

_M_ _issouri – St Louis_

Dean pushed the door closed and stood next to it as she turned the bedside lamp on. He buried his hands in the pockets of his jeans and smiled tightly, his lips forming a thin line. For several seconds they just stared at each other. Charlotte ducked her eyes, tightened her arms grip on her knees slightly and cleared her throat, "What erm, what time is it?"

"Oh, erm," he checked his watch, "a little after five."

"Right," she said.

"Okay look." Dean approached the bed and Charlotte fixed her eyes on his shoes. After a moment she forced herself to look into his face. He still looked sorry and she couldn't help the grimace to her expression. He noticed and only looked even sorrier. "I'm sorry. For whatever happened. Whatever the shifter said. I'm sorry."

"I'm fine. It's okay. You and Sam can stop asking now."

"No it's not. I'm not an idiot and I'm not blind. I can see that you're not okay so just, drop the crap."

Her mouth dropped open ever so slightly and she looked up at him. His expression had changed. He was frowning and she glared. "How about you stop guessing how I'm doing and leave me to sleep. If I say I'm fine then I'm fine."

"Uh huh," he said, "and I'm a Pastor's son. Charlotte, don't lie to me. Please."

She sighed and glared up at him. "I'm fine," she ground out. "What do you want Dean? An argument?"

He sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I just want to make sure you're okay. Is that too much to ask?"

"And as I said, I'm fine. So drop it."

They stared in silence for several minutes. Dean looked pissed and Charlotte was angry. The last thing she wanted was to start an argument with Dean. To be even more angry and pissed then she already was. Mixed in with the fear and the panic that was still trying to ebb away and it was not a good mix of emotions.

He hung his head and sunk onto the edge of the bed with a sigh. His back was to her and Charlotte let her eyes fall to her arms. The red marks were making their way through the bandages Sam had put on. Another reminder, other than the face next to her, of what had happened just a couple of hours ago. Her jaw tightened and she clenched her fists. Dean's head turned over his shoulder and he glanced at her. "What did it say anyway?"

"What?"

"The shifter."

 _I love you._ "Nothing." She shook her head. "Just a load of crap I know isn't true."

"Like?"

She looked at him, mouth partially open and sighed. "Nothing important alright? Look, it wasn't you. I know that."

"Charlotte," she hid the jump her body wanted to give at the command. The shifter had used the same tone with her to force her to look at him. "What did it say?"

"That I'm a bitch? And it turns you on?" Dean only turned his head more towards her, brows furrowed in a silent gesture to carry on. She sighed. "Erm," _Love_. "I'm a pain in the ass every time you see me and that sometimes," her mind worked on lying. There were things her mind were still trying to process. _Maybe I should just say it._ She locked eyes with him, sighed and turned away again. "Erm, some stuff about how everybody I love dies around me." _I'm getting there_. "How Bobby will die, you and Sam to hunting if anything."

Now Dean turned his head back to the door and she left it there. There was no need to go on and say it right? Besides, if it was true the real Dean would have said it surely? Silence enveloped itself around them awkwardly and Charlotte shifted in her seat. One thing she hated was silence. "Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"This is the part where you talk."

"Right," he turned his head back to her for a brief second, then away again. She could hear his mind working. "It said nothing else?"

He'd turned to face her, body pushed towards her and eyes in a frown. _Yes. I love you_. She swallowed a lump and turned her eyes away. She could still remember the way those eyes had looked at her with sadistic malice. Mocking her. Digging itself underneath her skin like a bad rash. "No."

When she flicked her eyes back up to him he was staring. A frown still adorned his face and he was staring at her, studying her face and posture. The way her arms were tucked around her knees, the cover wrapped around her waist and she was certain her face looked far from okay. She wished she knew what was going on in his mind, what he was thinking.

He flicked his eyes to her arms, her cheek, her knees and finally back to her. Part of her wanted to turn away, put her back to him. Another part wanted him to stay. She couldn't tell. Every part of her was telling her to make him go away but to let him stay. The silence pressed deeper against her skin and it made her shiver.

He opened his mouth to speak, inhaled, exhaled, closed his mouth and averted his eyes. Then they were back and he sighed, "I wish I could say it wasn't true. That me and Sam, we're going to be around for a while. Truth is we may not be."

She rolled her eyes on impulse and her words were automatic, "Tell me again how you're supposed to be making me feel better?"

"Shut up, I'm getting to it." There was a slight smile to his mouth and he ducked his head with curled lips. "But until that day, until the day any of us die, we'll love you like some little kid sister."

She frowned. "You think of me like a sister? That's-" she pulled a face.

"No," he said with a smirk. Now she was smiling. Definitely a step up from the shifter at least. "Of course not. I'm not into that kind of thing."

"Oh good, I was worried that you'd shack up with Sam at some point."

Dean flicked one brow up and stared at her. "Can I carry on?" She nodded and he nodded. "As I was trying to say, we're going to love you til we die. End of. But we will do our best not to die."

"That's good to know."

He narrowed his eyes with a smirk and pursed his lips. "Yeah well, you've got to promise not to die on us too you know."

She rolled her eyes and leaned back against the wall. Silence overtook the conversation again and Charlotte fixed her eyes on the clasped hands in her lap. "Dean? Do you really think I'm a bitch?"

He eyed her for several seconds before he nodded. "Yes. And I'm a dick remember?"

She chuckled. "At least we're on the same page."

"Yeah." Silence. Then he sighed. "Are we, are we going to be okay?"

Their eyes locked and she stared. Would she? Would she be okay talking to Dean? After a look-a-like had beaten her, tied her up and cut on her like nothing but a slab of meat? She sighed and noticed Dean's eyes had furrowed. His hand reached up. His fingers cupped the back of her neck as his thumb traced gentle lines over her now bruising cheek. She froze, her eyes fixed on his and her mouth slightly agape in worry. "I'd never hit you," he said eventually and withdrew his hand. "If it helps."

"Well I'd hit you any day of the week."

"I know," the corner of his mouth turned up.

She opened her mouth, eyes fixed on the opposite wall in thought. "There was one thing the shifter said that I'm curious about."

Out of the corner of her eyes she watched him become interested and worried in the same expression. "What?"

Her head titled to look at him through narrowed eyes. "You hate me."

Silence was the third party member that lingered and it made her shift in her seat. He was staring again. Then he moved. He pushed his body over the few inches that separated them. She couldn't move. She was in shock as he titled his head and gently pressed his mouth to hers. Unconsciously she closed her eyes and let herself fall into the simple touch. The beating of her heart doubled and Dean finally pulled himself away. He was still close enough that his hot breath slid over her lips and across her cheeks. "I hate you," he whispered. There was a smirk to his mouth and the smirk that started to grow on her mouth was uncontrolled.

Her heart could be felt trying to get out of her chest and she felt her breath hitch. _This_ is Dean. Real Dean. Son of a bitch Dean who was also a dick. Then her stomach twisted. She wanted anything but the pain circling her mind and she wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him back to her. Her mouth found his and it was rough and desperate. He fumbled his hands either side of her as he fell on top and she drew him in deeper.

"Dean," she whispered. He pulled his head back to frown down at her. She smirked. "I hate you." _I love you._ And she drew him back down. Clothes were gone and she pushed everything that happened before this point out of her mind. She could worry about that later. For now, all that mattered was physical satisfaction.

The sex was needy and sloppy. She'd stripped his clothes off, pulled her away and managed to work through the muddle of emotions in her mind long enough to grab a condom and slide it onto Dean's dick. He'd tried to slow it down but she _needed_ this, needed to feel something other than the fear clawing at her chest. She'd turned them over, roughly kissed his mouth as she slid down onto him and started to roll her hips hard and fast.

The last dregs of adrenaline she used to try to forget what had happened, to replace the memories with the sounds of Dean's small panting, quiet moans and the feel of his hands gliding across her skin with gentle ease.

It was quick and when she felt ecstasy take over her body, shaking it with nothing but pleasure, she fell against Dean's chest, her eyes closed and took in the scent that was just him. Eventually, after he'd kissed her temple and stroked her back soothingly, she climbed off of him and curled herself underneath the covers. He moved away to clean up a little and when he came back he threw his arm lazily over her body and pulled her close. She welcomed the physical contact. Welcomed the ignorance to the pain inside and forced her eyes closed to pull her into slumber.

Silver eyes stared at her in the darkness. Then they turned to green. Dean's face appeared. Smirking. Grinning. A knife appeared in the dark and Charlotte inched back. "Uh, uh," he said, taunting her with a shake of his head as he reached out and grabbed her wrist, "Nowhere to go. Just you and me in here." The knife sliced past and she felt hot liquid begin to drip down her chest.

"Dean," she whined. Tears were in her eyes.

He chuckled and a hand wrapped itself around her throat. She woke. Her body bolted upright and she stared into the darkness of the room. After several seconds she managed to ease the heaving of her chest and was able to turn her eyes to the real Dean next to her. He was still asleep. Snoring. A faint smirk scattered across her features for a brief moment.

Then the hand on her throat came back to mind and she swallowed, threw back the covers and got dressed. She had just grabbed her t-shirt when Dean stirred. "Where's the fire?"

"I'm off. Got stuff to do."

His eyes were open and he was frowning at her. "What's up?"

"I'm fine before you ask. I'll call you. And no, I'm not going straight to Bobby's."

"Charlotte, wait," he was getting out of bed and grabbing his boxers. "Let's talk about this."

"I'm fine," she ground out and she threw her shirt on, shoved her feet into her boots and yanked her jacket up into her arms. Dean was stood now and he was grabbing her arm. She jumped at the hold and he let go straight away.

"We're not cool are we?"

"We're fine. I'll call you. Tell Sam I said bye and I'll call him too." And she turned and left. She was out the door, in her car and gone up the road in two minutes. The tears were begging to be let loose and she forced them away, grabbed her phone and dialled Jo's number. "Hey Jo, is it a bad time for me to come drink your supply of alcohol?"

"Charlotte, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just, I just need to get away from anybody that knows anything."

"Right," Jo Harvelle let out uncertainly. "Well I'll let Mum know you're on your way."

"Thank you. I appreciate it. I really do."

"Yeah well you can start by telling me what's wrong when you get here." The younger woman didn't leave room for argument. Just hung up. Charlotte sighed and turned onto the highway.

Two hours later she was entering the Roadhouse with a frown. The two women, along with a few dwindling customers yet to leave, were waiting. Jo frowned and Ellen merely pointed to the seat opposite her with a beer waiting. "Talk," Ellen said once she was parked.


	30. 2006 - March part 4

_Nebraska – Harvelle Roadhouse_

“Talk.”

Charlotte sighed. The last thing she wanted was the mother figure of her life analysing her words and thoughts. “Just a rough job?” she tried. She just wanted to drink and forget about it all.

“Who died?” Ellen asked.

The younger Hunter looked up with a frown. “Nobody.”

“Okay,” she said, “so talk, now, or I’ll take the alcohol away.”

Once more Charlotte sighed and ducked her head so that her eyes were fixed on the wooden bar. Jo was in the seat next to her and she could feel the looks the two Harvelle’s were giving each other and her. It made her skin itch. “Nobody died,” she repeated, “well,” she shrugged, “I almost did.”

“Yeah well, that’s the job isn't it?” Jo said.

Charlotte lifted her eyes to simply look at Jo. The younger girl shied away just enough to be noticeable. “It’s not the fact that I almost died. It’s the fact that the job, wasn’t even mine.” She turned her eyes to Ellen with a sigh. “A Shifter. Couple of friends were hunting a Shifter. They must’ve been tied up or knocked out or something. The damn thing was one of them and it called me up and drank beer with me like I was best friends with it!”

There was a short silence before Ellen leaned forward on the bar top on her arms. “Jo go wait tables.” Charlotte flicked her eyes to Jo and back to Ellen with a slight frown. The older woman just turned her eyes to her daughter and said, “Go.”

Jo took a few moments before she left and Charlotte turned her frown up to Ellen. “Why’d you send Jo away?”

“Because,” Ellen said, “it’s more than just a Shifter being a friend. I’m not an idiot.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes with a shake of her head. “I wish everybody would stop saying that. I’m going to hurt somebody soon.”

“Charlotte Maria-”

“Alright!” She shouted and she glanced over her shoulder, noticing a few looks in her direction. She hunched her shoulders a little and frowned up at Ellen. In a quieter voice she said, “Don’t, you don’t have to say my full name.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and bit the inside of her bottom lip. Her thoughts were still scattered and in all honesty she was still wading through the thoughts and emotions. “Okay I-” she faltered, trying to find the right combination of words. She sighed, again, and decided to go with it. “Me and another Hunter, we have a ‘sex-only’ relationship. It was him the Shifter was pretending to be.”

“Is he hot?” Jo asked from the other side of Charlotte. Both women turned their eyes to Jo with a glare. “What?” After a moment she rolled her eyes and took a seat at the bar once more. “Ignore my point,” she fixed a look with her mum before she turned to Charlotte. “So did you two…”

It took the Hunter a few seconds to cotton on to what the girl was saying. “No! No, thank God.”

“So you would have?”

“Okay, Jo, little lesson in hunting. Shifter’s take on the memories, emotions, thoughts and actions of the person they’re pretending to be. There is almost no difference between them. Whatever the real person would say in situation A, the Shifter will say it too.”

“Anyway,” Ellen said, dragging both girl’s attention back to her. She delivered a look to her daughter before she went on. “So you have this thing with a guy. Can I take a moment to point out it isn’t healthy?”

Charlotte sighed. “In this life Ellen I have nothing else. I can’t have a normal life anymore. I can’t have a normal relationship or a normal family, which is you know, a cranky old guy who likes Whiskey and two brothers who always seem to be in the middle of a new fight with each other or their dad. There’s nothing stable about that so if we want some _release_ from our lives, from our families, then it doesn’t matter.”

“Well I’m warning you kid, it ain’t gonna end pretty. Now, back to the story, what happened to your face?”

On the drive over Charlotte had taken a few minutes to take in her new appearance in the rear-view mirror. Her left cheek was red, raw and beginning to take on a yellow hue around her jaw. The cut just underneath her eye had stopped bleeding but it still stung. The cut the Shifter had sliced across her right cheek was still bright red and it ran from just underneath the peak of her cheek and back into her hairline. If that didn’t scar she’d be lucky. “The Shifter. It had some sick fascination of wearing somebody’s skin and abusing the person’s lover, wife, girlfriend you name it. Just to get them thrown in jail. So when it called and I came calling it took the opportunity.”

Silence erupted and Charlotte wanted to badly chase it away with a double shot of whiskey. “Did it do anything other than cut you?” Ellen asked.

She hesitated half way between a shake of her head. The unasked part of Ellen’s question was a No. But in reality it was a Yes. “Kind of. It said some, things.”

“Things?” Jo said. “What kind of things?”

Charlotte grimaced and finished her beer. “Can I get another?”

“Not until you answer the question,” Ellen said.

“I didn’t realise I was going to be put through a damn interrogation,” she muttered.

Silence. God she wanted to strangle that silence until it was gone. Forever. Never did she want to hear it again. “How much do you like this guy?” Ellen asked.

“I don’t,” she didn’t miss a beat in replying. “He’s a dick and an A grade douche bag.” She fixed a look with both Harvelle’s before she went on. “It is nothing more than meaningless sex. It never will be.”

“Uh huh,” Ellen said, “hate to break it to you girl but you’re in love.”

“What?” she screwed her face up. “No I’m not.”

“Denial,” Jo said with a smirk.

“Go to hell, both of you,” Charlotte muttered around the fresh beer Ellen had placed in front of her. Jo laughed and Ellen had a smirk to her mouth. “I hate him,” she said. “Honest to fucking God I hate the hell out of him. Ever since I met him he’s been nothing but a pain in my ass.”

“Yep,” Ellen said with a grin. “You got it bad. So,” she grabbed a glass and filled some of it with an amber liquid. “What happened? After the whole cutting and talking, what happened?”

Charlotte sighed and fixed her eyes onto the amber liquid. After a moment Ellen passed it to her. It had taken years for the older woman to even offer Charlotte a drink, then she found out that Charlotte had a strong stomach for alcohol and over the years, it was the one thing that somehow loosened her up to the older woman. “I talked to the real guy. He was making sure I was okay and telling me that that wasn’t him but a Shifter.” She sighed again. “Then I fell asleep and I had a nightmare.”

“A nightmare?” Jo said.

Charlotte turned her eyes on Jo. “I’ve had nightmares before. But not like this. It was, intense, it felt too real and when I woke up, I bolted. The guy tried to grab me to stop me to talk to me and I jumped. I physically jumped because I was scared of him.”

“But he would never hurt you right?” Jo said.

Charlotte bit the inside of her bottom lip and fixed her eyes on the liquid inside her glass. “The scariest part about it wasn’t the nightmares, the Shifter or being cut on. It was knowing that the real guy, Dean, he could do that. I know that he personally won’t, but I also know that he _could_ and _that_ is what terrifies me.”

 _And the apparent fact that he loves me._ It was true what Shifter-Dean had said. She feared being loved and loving back. She had almost said the words to Bobby many a times but couldn’t find it within herself to do so. Then there was the time just after school where she met a nice, decent, normal college boy. Four months in and she told the guy she loved him. Two months later he upped and disappeared.

And Alex. The man only just crossed her mind but he had no problem saying the words. They’d been seeing each other for almost three months. She liked him. Another normal guy who thankfully didn’t ask too many questions about the strange stories that were passed around town about the Salvage yard. Normal. Nice. Decent.

She frowned, worried about him. Should she call things off?

“What did you say his name was?” Ellen said.

“Dean,” Jo answered.

“Dean Winchester by any chance?”

Charlotte quirked a brow. “You know him?”

“I know of him,” Ellen said and she sighed. “I know his father.”

“Great,” Charlotte muttered. She slammed back the rest of the liquid in the glass and put the glass down. “Can I get another?”

Ellen had left the conversation after that and Charlotte had been happy to drink her way through several more bottles of beers. Jo only looked on with mild concern to her health. “So is Dean hot?”

Charlotte halted the eighth bottle on her lips and looked at Jo with a frown. She removed the bottle and said, “What?”

“Dean Winchester,” she shrugged. “Is he hot?”

And she laughed. “I guess. He’s all yours if you want him.”

“Really?” Jo said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well it’s clear you have the hots for him.”

“And did I not mention the fact that he is a dick and a douche. I couldn’t care less if he caught all of the STD’s in the world.”

“Wow,” Jo said, “that is some weird shit going on between you two.”

“Whatever,” Charlotte said. Her eyes drifted to the other side of the bar and landed on a set of brown eyes that belonged to a muscular and well-built guy in his mid-twenties. “Now if you excuse me there’s a hot pile of muscle over there that requires my attention.” And she left the younger girl to hit on, flirt and even cope a feel of muscles that belonged to the guy in question.

As the night drew on Charlotte started to feel the alcohol and Ellen demanded she get to bed, alone, before she dragged her upstairs herself. So Charlotte bid them goodnight, dragged her drunken ass upstairs and collapsed in one of the spare rooms the Harvelle’s had. The nightmare came back and she spent the rest of the night just staring at the ceiling and writhing in the blankets of the bed.

 


	31. 2006 - April

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

Charlotte had done nothing but busy herself with preparing cars, tuning up Bobby’s car and her own and being on call for broken down vehicles. Bobby had asked what had happened and she’d tried to pass it off as a bad hunt, though she knew that Bobby held his suspicions she was allowed that small victory of ignorance.

Until Sam had called up and asked how she was doing. Then the younger Winchester let Bobby in on the Shifter job. And the old man had tried to drag the problem out of her. “I’m fine,” she’d said with a tone that said she wasn't uttering another word on the matter, and she’d given the man a hard look and he backed off.

When she’d eventually turned her mobile back on there were a bunch of messages and voice mails waiting for her. With a sigh she’d read each one, from both the brothers, and listened to them both asking her to call them back.

She was halfway through a tune up of Bobby’s car when her phone went off. _Dean._ She bit down on her tongue and debated just letting it go through to voice mail, _again_. She sighed and answered it. “Yeah?”

“Where the hell have you been?”

“Believe it or not Dean I have a life outside of Hunting. So I was living it.”

“Right,” there was a pause and Charlotte leaned against the open hood of the car. She waited. “Can we talk?”

“Aren’t we talking now?” She could see him glaring at the phone and shook her head. “Sorry,” she said. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Us.”

“Okay, what about us?”

“Well for one, why have you been ignoring mine and Sammy’s calls for the last few weeks?”

She shrugged, eyes fixed on a loose set of stones on the ground. “Well I wasn’t technically ignoring them, just, leaving them.”

“Uh huh.”

“Look, Dean,” she sighed and ran a hand over her face. “I’m fine if that’s what you’re asking. Okay? I am one hundred percent fine. I’ve just been busy doing stuff.”

“That night though, when I grabbed you and you-”

“I know what happened. I just, I panicked okay?”

There was a pause and she bit the inside of her bottom lip. _One of these days it’s going to bleed_. “You panicked?”

She sighed and bit her tongue. With everybody asking her over and over again how she was doing and if she was fine, her temper had been getting the better of her and she knew she needed to cool it before she said the wrong thing. “Yeah. A carbon copy of you had been using me as a chopping board, saying some not so great things that his a little close to home and then you turn up, we do it and I panicked okay.”

“Right. So-”

“We’re fine,” she interrupted, wanting to hang up and pretend some more that everything was fine.

“We’re good?”

“Yes.” She sighed. “What about you and Sammy? How have you guys been?”

“You know, same old same old.”

“Right,” her eyes flicked to the back door where Bobby stood. He was nodding his head inside the house and she frowned. “Well, stay alive. I’ve got to go.”

“Alright, well, if you know, you’re not okay, you know you can call me right?”

She nodded, “Yeah, bye Dean.” And she cut the call and pocketed her phone. She pushed herself off the car and towards Bobby. “What?”

“Alex is here.”

And her mouth dried up. That was one thing she’d been meaning to get round to. The guy she’d been seeing for a few months now. Unconsciously she brushed at the spot on her face where the faint traces of the cut had been. It was a thin white line and she hoped to hell it would be gone soon. She nodded and followed Bobby inside the house. Alex, the blonde haired student teacher who had struck a chord with her, stood in a blue shirt and tan pants. A bag was slung over one shoulder and he smiled at her. “Hey, can we talk?”

She nodded and Bobby made a move into the living room, leaving the pair of them in the kitchen. She turned her back and grabbed a beer from the fridge, held it out to him and smiled when he took it. Her hand reached in for another for herself and she frowned into the bottle as she took a swig. There was a lot of talking going on. And she could feel her phone vibrating in her pocket. “What did you erm, want to talk about?”

“Us.”

 _Of course._ “Okay. What about us?”

He laughed awkwardly and fiddled with the label on his bottle. After a moment he took a swig and finally let his brown eyes meet hers. “Erm, I like you okay. I mean, I really like you and well-” he cleared his throat and frowned into his own bottle. “We’ve been kind of dating for a few months right?”

“Yeah, four ish.”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat again and fixed her with a curious expression. “I was hoping that you know, we could maybe see each other more than we do.”

 _Shit_. “Erm,” she scratched the back of her head with one hand. “Yeah sure. I mean, that’d be great.”

Then he was narrowing his eyes. “You’re not comfortable with that are you?”

She gave him an awkward lopsided smile and said, “It’s just,” she sighed and dropped her head. She gave herself a moment to collect her thoughts. “No I am comfortable with it, I mean, I’d love to see you more than like once a week. Honestly.”

“But?”

She swallowed away the lump that was growing in her throat. _But Dean_. _No. Screw him._ “Nothing.” She whacked a grin onto her face. “I’m sorry for being around less than I should be. How about tomorrow I take you out to dinner.”

Alex was frowning and she willed him to accept it, drop the matter and just relax or leave. “You sure?”

Charlotte nodded. Maybe Bobby and Ellen were right, maybe she could do with some normalcy in her life. When she’d admitted to Ellen that normalcy was a thing she wasn’t going to be getting she didn’t think it would come in the shape or form of a school student teacher. “I would love to. And, I promise I will drop anything for you. Unless you know, it’s life or death.”

And he gave a laugh. “Okay, I was just hoping you wanted something more from our relationship.”

Charlotte took a step towards him, grabbed his collar and smirked at him. “Of course I do. I-” there was the briefest of pauses and she hoped to hell he didn’t notice. “I love you.” Her body crawled and wriggled with the words but she kept the smile in place as she pressed her mouth to his. Her insides twisted painfully with those words and she begged the nerves going wild to stop.

Then he was grinning. “I love you too.”

“Good,” she grinned and released him.

Her phone vibrated again and Alex simply looked at her. “I’ll let you get that. Whoever it is has called twice already.”

“Alright, I will see you tomorrow. I promise.” He nodded, gave her another kiss and left. When she pulled back from the door Bobby was giving her a look. “What?”

He shook his head. “You sure you want to be hooking up with him?”

“I thought you were the one asking me to try to live a normal life Bobby. So here I am having a normal boyfriend with a normal job and a normal life.”

“Alright, I just thought that you and Dean-” She raised her brow and he stopped his words. “What is going on between you two anyway?”

“Nothing.”

“Right.”

He didn’t believe her. She didn’t care. Her phone started again and she turned back to the kitchen, “I’ll be out back!” And she dug the phone from her pocket. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Sam.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine. I’ve been busy. I’ve been over this with your brother.”

“I know Charlotte I just, I wanted to make sure for myself.”

Again she rolled her eyes and picked up a wrench as she set her beer down. “Trust me Sam I’m fine. I’ve just been busy with life. Some of us fix cars for a living.”

“You sure everything’s alright?”

She stopped herself from rolling her eyes. “Yes. Can I get back to my job now?”

He gave a slight laugh and she eyed the engine. “Yeah, sure. Just, call if anything’s up.”

“Will do,” and she hung up for the second time on a Winchester that day. She sunk her mind inside the engine and tried to force Alex out of her mind. _I love you_. And she was certain she meant it to some degree. He was a nice guy and he made her happy. He helped her to forget about ghosts, ghouls, vampires, werewolves, shifters, the Winchesters, everything hunting related. And he was fun to be around. She enjoyed every minute she spent with the guy and none of it was forced.

So why was her stomach crawling about inside of her? Why was it desperate to claw a path out of her? She stopped her work to grip the side of the open hood with a glare. _I love you_. The words made her sick and it made her heart physically hurt to beat.

 _Why? Why the hell did I do that?_ She kicked at one of the tyres and sighed. She was twenty four years old. Maybe it was time to start thinking about the future. Maybe it was time to consider whether or not she wanted to be a Hunter for the rest of her life.

As the thoughts crossed her mind she frowned. She _was_ a Hunter though, it was in her blood and she knew that it was one of those things that would be hard to beat, like a bad addiction. _But maybe I should try_.

As the word ‘future’ kicked itself around her head again her thoughts drifted back to Dean. Another frown grew on her features and she shook her head. Dean was like a bad drug. Every time she met him she needed him. Needed to feel him.

But it was bad for her. Ellen was right. She gave a sigh at that thought. The thing she had going with Dean was bad. _Right, no more. There’s no future there. Nothing to look forward to but misery and pain._ _After all, he was a hunter too, the end wasn't going to be pretty._

She settled those thoughts into her mind as she moved back into the engine. By now her stomach was jumping violently inside of her and she was desperate to get it back under control. Desperate to get her thoughts and emotions under control into some semblance of order.

An hour passed before she decided to traipse back inside to grab some food. Bobby collared her into the living room and kicked out a chair in front of his desk. “Right kid, what’s going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been nothing but angry and self-contained since that whole Shifter deal. You have this thing, whatever it is, going on with Dean and then you’ve got Alex on the side. What is going on?”

She sighed. There was a lot of that today. “Bobby-”

“I love you like my own friggin’ daughter. You got that?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“So like a Dad I care about you and what happens. Now you tell me, what is going on in that noggin’ of yours?”

For several seconds she just stared at Bobby, her mind wondering what her next moves should be. What her thoughts were. Then she leaned forward and started. “I’m thinking that I shouldn’t be Hunting forever. That one day I need to hang up my gun and get right into normal life.”

“Well no shit I’ve been telling you that for months.”

“Yeah, well Alex is plenty normal. He doesn’t seem to mind that I don’t talk about my past, about what I do outside of fixing cars. The Shifter thing was just a erm, an epiphany if you will. The whole Dean thing doesn’t matter. It’s not important, hasn't really ever been. But I’m going to try it. With Alex. To somehow be normal and have a normal every day job and life.”

Then there was silence and Charlotte dared to glance up at the man that had been a Dad to her for the past twelve years. He was smiling, kind of. There was a look in his eyes that she had a little trouble decoding but she tried to ignore it as he said, “Well it’s about time.”

She let out a single laugh and ducked her head. “Thanks.”

“I’m just saying,” he stood up and moved to grab two glasses and his bottle of whiskey. “I never wanted you in this business. I’ve always wanted you to live a long and happy life.”

“Yeah,” she said as she took a glass. “Well, I’m going to try. For you Bobby.” As she clinked her glass with his and drank the whiskey she ignored the burning ache in her stomach. Was she making the right choice?

 


	32. 2006 - June

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

It was the first time in two months the Winchester brothers visited Bobby's salvage yard. Their last hunt had been that of a Shtriga in Wisconsin. Now they just wanted to kick back and relax for a couple of weeks with Bobby and Charlotte. Dean had been able to say hi, recount to Bobby their last few weeks and was able to grab a beer before he went out back to check over his car.

He’d managed to put his beer down and open the hood of his car when his phone rang. As green eyes surveyed the engine his left hand grabbed his phone and pressed it to his ear. “Hello?”

“Dean.”

“Cassie,” he felt a smile tug on the corner of his mouth. Since he and Sam had gotten rid of the spirit of Cyrus Dorian he’d kept in touch with her. He’d said he would and he wasn’t one to break a promise. Not to mention there was still something there. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah I just figured I’d see how my favourite Ghostbuster is doing.”

Dean laughed. “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?”

“Doesn’t change the fact that it’s true.”

“Whatever,” he said with a smirk, “you missing me yet?”

Cassie laughed on the other end of the line and Dean stretched to reach for a series of tools on the workbench. “In your dreams.”

“I’m hurt.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cassie said. There was a shout in the background and Cassie spoke away from the phone for a few minutes before she returned to him. “I got to go.”

“Alright. Listen, Cassie, I’ll come see you in a couple of days okay?”

“You better,” and she killed the connection.

He pocketed his phone and with a smile started to look over the engine on his car. “Who’s Cassie?” He froze in his car and stared at the engine pieces. Footsteps treaded lightly until their owner stood next to him. It was only then that he looked up and quirked his brows, feigning ignorance. Charlotte rolled her eyes with a smirk, “Who’s Cassie? Your girlfriend?”

“No, she’s a friend.”

“Uh huh.” Charlotte peered into his engine and pointed to it. “That needs replacing.”

“Thanks Captain obvious.” She held her hands up and Dean simply narrowed his eyes at her. It struck him that this was the first time in just over three months she had spoken face to face with him. “What do you want anyway?”

Charlotte shrugged and moved to lean against the side of the Impala, arms folded over her chest. “I just thought we could, you know, talk.”

“Okay,” Dean stopped what he was doing to stand and stare at her. After a few seconds of silence he waved his hands at her, “What?”

Then she pushed herself off the metal and turned her body to face him. “I just wanted to tell you that we’re fine. I’m cool now so you know, feel free to insult me until your heart’s content.”

It took him a few moments to react to her. But he did with a lop sided grin. “I was gonna anyway you bitch.”

“Asshole.”

“Slut.”

“Whore.”

And he smirked as her mouth tugged up into a smirk. “Welcome back,” he said.

She punched his arm, “Screw you.” He opened his mouth to retort but she only punched his arm again, “That’s for thinking it!”

“Hit a man for wanting to speak the truth.”

“Yeah, in a very demeaning way.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled and he bit back a retort. “Whatever,” he managed instead. Then he turned his eyes back to his car. “So you gonna stand and criticise all day or are you gonna give me a hand?”

“Criticise of course.” And she made a point to lean against the workbench with her arms folded over her chest and her mouth quirked into a smirk. He narrowed his eyes and after a moment sighed and turned back to his car.

He started to check the fuel lines when he said, “Are you sure,” he pulled on a few lines and pushed himself further into the engine, “that you’re fine? Last time you practically jumped out of your skin.”

She rolled her eyes and stood next to him once more. “I’m fine Dean. Keep pestering and you won’t be.”

“Alright, okay, I get it.”

“Good.” Silence enveloped them and he pulled himself free to check the wiring on the battery. “So who was she?”

“Who?”

“Cassie?” He stopped what he was doing to look up at her, brows raised in questioning. “What? I can’t ask?”

“She’s just an old friend.”

“Girlfriend?”

His mouth twitched into a smirk and he stood to his full height to match hers. “Why? Jealous?”

She scoffed. “No. I have Alex thank you.”

“Uh huh, and erm, tell me. Does Alex make you shake before he’s even started?”

He smirked at her and for a moment she fumbled her expressions. Then she slammed her mouth tight shut and smirked herself. She took a step closer and narrowed her eyes with a knowing look. In a low voice she said, “And does Cassie have you panting and wanting more after she’s hardly touched you?”

He leaned his head towards her just a few inches. He could feel heat building in the pit of his stomach and lust begin to wash over him as the need to get a rise out of her grew. He spoke lowly, “I’m sure Alex doesn’t make you wait. He doesn’t build it up. Just gets right in there.”

“And I bet Cassie,” Charlotte leaned closer so that her mouth was inches from his ear, “has no idea where your sensitive spots are.” Dean pulled just far enough away so that their noses almost brushed when they looked at each other. “The ones that have you whispering my name with lust.”

“Alex,” he began, clearing away the dryness that had built up in his throat, “could never make you come three times in one night I bet.”

He watched her throat jump as she swallowed and the heat was intense. Sparks were flying between them and he could feel his jeans twitch and his fingers curl. They wanted to reach out, sink themselves into tresses of blonde waves and bring her close to him. He wanted to satisfy the hunger that was crawling over his skin. God he hated her.

His eyes sought her mouth and when he flicked his green eyes up to meet her blue ones he’d found her doing the same. “Cassie would never be up for rounds three or four,” she punched out each word in a low, quick swirl of words, her eyes straying to his lips.

Dean tried not to swallow. The goading he’d done was working. And working fast and hard. All of the words that passed between them loud and clear about their meanings. “Alex would never let you finish first.”

“Cassie doesn’t have the same stamina that you do.”

Then he was grabbing her with one hand and slamming the hood of his car down with the other. His mouth crashed to hers with all the fiery lust she had built up inside of him. _I hate you_. He pulled roughly on her bottom lip and let his fingers tighten on the skin above her hips. Her hands dug into his shoulders as she fought her tongue against his.

And he was pulling her underneath him and pushing her onto the hood of the Impala. One leg wrapped itself around his waist and he let his hand squeeze the top of her thigh with all the promises he’d already told her about. She was pulling at his waist, pulling him further in and dragging fingers through his hair as he heel dug into the small of his back, pressing him into her.

“ _I hate you,”_ she managed between kisses.

“ _I hate you too,_ ” he growled back and he was grinding his hips into hers. He needed a release and soon.

“Dean,” she whispered against his lips, his hips rolling up to meet each of his dirty grinds.

Then somebody cleared their throats and they froze. Eyes fixed themselves on each other in terror. “Don’t ever… I don’t want to see that _ever again_.” Sam said.

They jumped off the car and straightened their clothes, turning to look at Sam in a few short seconds. The taller Winchester had his back to them, one hand clearly on his face. “You can look now Sammy.”

“Sorry about that,” Charlotte said.

“At least we weren’t naked,” Dean said.

Sam just glared at him. “No. But if I’d left it any longer you would’ve been.”

Dean just rolled his eyes and grabbed his beer. “What did you want anyway?”

Sam looked between the two of them with a sigh before he shook his head. “One of Dad’s old friends called. Said something about a possible Ghouls nest in Wyoming. He was hoping we were closer to it then he is.”

“Awesome, I’ll get the car ready.”

Sam looked between them again and snorted. “Just try to keep it PG please.”

Then he turned and left. Silence slammed itself between them and Dean turned to Charlotte. “Okay, _that-”_

“Was a lapse in judgement.” Charlotte was nodding, her eyes on a point on the floor

He frowned. “It seemed a whole lot more than a lapse in judgement to me?”

She turned glaring eyes on him for several seconds. Then she sighed and attracted her attention to anywhere but him. “I-” she faltered, sighed and finally looked at him. “I dunno. I don’t want it to be _anything_ okay?”

“Am I that bad?”

She looked at him. “You’re a hunter. We have a short life span anyway. Two hunters together only means a shorter life span. Not to mention that we both have other people. You have Cassie and I have Alex.”

“Right,” he said, trying to decode her words for several minutes. Then he spoke again. “But if we didn’t have other people?”

She sighed. “Stay with Cassie. She seems good for you. We are the _worst_ match ever. So go play boyfriend with Cassie. You’ll be happy.”

Then he stared. There were days where he could understand anything going through Charlotte’s mind. Could understand the looks she pulled or what the slight twitches to her facial expressions meant. But right now? He could have fifty guesses and still get it wrong. There was something going on inside her mind, some thought process making sense in there and he wanted to know what the hell it was. “Okay. No more. Got you.”

Then he turned away from her, finished off his beer and checked the boot of his car for weapons. He lifted his eyes to see her open and close her mouth a couple of times before she turned and headed for the house. He followed her with his eyes until she disappeared. Then he sighed and he was grinding his teeth. Something was up with her but something was also up about him. He had kept in contact with Cassie because he _knew_ she would be good for him. He knew she would be the only way out of hunting for him.

But something about Charlotte kept drawing him in. And he had no idea why. She was a bitch to him on the best of days. And on the other days she was all over the place. They were _awful_ for each other, but he wanted to hold onto that awfulness.  _  
_

With a sigh he closed the boot of his car, told Sam he was ready, bid Bobby goodbye and tried to ignore the fact that Charlotte was nowhere in sight.

 


	33. 2006 - July

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

Charlotte watched as Bobby handed a silver flask to Dean. Her mouth was a tight line as she looked between the two brothers, her mind still mulling over the information Sam and Dean had told them. John was in trouble and he needed their help. Apparently the man had been taken by a Demon the brothers had met a while back. And said demon had been forced out of a two storey window several months back. _That_ thought really unsettled her.

“I didn’t think you’d help him,” Dean said, “you know, since last time you ran him out of here with a shotgun. Cocked it and everything.”

“What?” Sam said.

“Yeah,” Charlotte said. “Bobby was ready to fill him with buckshot.”

“Well John Winchester has that effect on people.” Bobby said. Charlotte smirked and let her eyes run over the boys once more. “You know,” the older man started again as he passed a flask of whiskey to Dean. “You guys are in some serious crap. Every year I hear of three or four possessions.”

“This year?” Sam said.

“At the moment, twenty seven in the year so far. What I’m saying is that more Demons are walking with us.”

“You said this Meg girl knows where you are right?”

“Yeah?” Dean answered.

“So let’s make sure she comes,” she said. She pushed herself from where she had been standing against the kitchen frame and moved to the desk Sam was sat at. She flicked through a few pages and stopped to point at a picture. “Key of Solomon. If she’s really coming then we just have to get her to step into it and bam, she’s trapped.”

“It works?” Sam asked.

“Like a charm,” Bobby answered.

“What are we waiting for then?” Dean said. Bobby and Charlotte looked at each other with a smirk then turned their eyes to the ceiling. Both Winchesters lifted their eyes to the black symbol on the ceiling. “Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered with a grin.

That was when Rumsfeld started to bark. Bobby had found the dog as a stray in his back yard just a month ago and had taken the guy in and fed him. He was a relatively quiet dog who made very little noise. Now something had set him off. Bobby moved to the window and Charlotte moved to stand on the opposite side of the room. Her eyes were glancing between the door and the window.

Then there was a yelp and her throat dried up. “Something’s wrong,” Bobby said.

Charlotte turned when the door was kicked open. “No more crap okay?” A short blond haired woman in a red leather jacket strode in and eyed everyone in the room. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see Dean pull at a flask in his pocket. He moved to throw the water over _Meg,_ she assumed, and the woman simply waved her arm and threw Dean across the room.

She had to step out of the way to avoid him. Sam moved to stand in front of Bobby and Meg twisted her eyes from Charlotte, who slowly inched her way to Dean, and to Sam. “I want the colt Sam.”

“ _The_ colt?” Charlotte echoed.

“The real one, now.”

“We don’t have it,” Sam spoke. Charlotte kicked at Dean’s downed body and she finally saw him begin to stir. “We buried it.”

“Don’t lie to me Sam! First Johnny tries to pawn me off with a fake gun and he left you two chuckleheads with the real one.” Dean finally managed to pull himself to his feet. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find you?”

“Oh,” Charlotte said with a smirk, “we were counting on it.”

“Gotcha,” Dean said. He and Sam moved, looking for a chair and some rope whilst Bobby and Charlotte moved around the house salting the doors and windows. By the time they’d gotten back from salting the entries and exits Dean was already questioning Meg. “Where is he? What did you do with him?”

Dean was stood over her, his hands on the chair of the arms whilst Meg sat there with a smirk. “He died screaming. I killed him myself.”

Dean hit her. “Dean,” Charlotte started.

He held one finger up to her as he kept his eyes on Meg. “That’s a kind of turn on, you hitting a girl,” Meg teased.

“You’re no girl.”

“Dean,” Charlotte emphasised. He turned with a glare and she nodded her head over her shoulder. He finally followed her and Bobby into the kitchen with Sam on their trail. “Don’t hurt her,” she whispered once they were out of earshot of the demon.

“You gotta be careful,” Bobby said. “Aside from the demon she really is a girl inside there. Possessed. What did you think it meant you idiot?”

“There’s an innocent girl trapped in there?”

“No,” Charlotte said, “she’s just as guilty.” Sarcasm dripped over her words. Then she slapped the back of his head. “Of course she’s innocent.”

“Wait a minute,” Sam said clicking his fingers. He moved through the living room, ignoring Meg and grabbed the book he had been looking at before. He came back in and showed a set of pages with Latin inscriptions covering the pages. “An exorcism.”

“Will it work?” Dean asked.

Eyes were on Bobby and he shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Let’s do it Sammy,” Dean said.

Charlotte turned to Bobby with a frown. Dean and Sam busied themselves with reading the exorcism and asking for questions. “Didn’t they say that she fell out of a two storey window?”

Bobby flicked his eyes away in thought. “Which means a lot of her bones are broken.”

“And the only thing holding her up-”

“Is the Demon.” Bobby sighed. “They exorcise her they’re going to kill the girl.”

Her face turned into a grimace and she let her eyes drift over the brothers. Dean was pissed and he still wanted to exorcise her. Bobby moved to them and said, “You’re gonna kill her. She fell and broke all of her bones. The only thing holding that girl up is the Demon.”

“And we are going to put her out of her misery. Sam, finish it.”

Charlotte froze. There was no hesitation in his order, no regret or grimace. Just a plain and simple command that spoke of the anger rolling around inside of him and he told Sam once more to finish the chant. She was in two minds as Sam continued to read. She could understand wanting to send the Demon to hell but she didn’t want to be responsible for the death of an innocent girl. But she couldn't move or speak to change anything.

Black smoke curled against the ceiling, circled the air and sunk into the floorboards. For several seconds nobody moved or said anything. Slowly, blood started to drip from the girl's mouth. “She’s alive,” Dean said.

Everybody moved. Charlotte and Bobby worked on getting blankets and water whilst Dean and Sam put her on the floor. Bobby entered with a glass of water and Charlotte had been able to find a spare blanket to throw over her whilst she drank. And Sam was asking where the Demon responsible was. Dean asked where their Dad was and she managed to say the word “Sunrise,” before she died.

Charlotte pinched her eyes shut and moved to the kitchen, breathing long and deep breaths. Something inside of her twisted and Meg's thankful, sad, relieved eyes were painted in full detail on the back of her lids. An innocent girl, dying right in front of her and although she knew it was out of her control, there was a still a part of her that was guilty that she hadn't done more. Before she knew it Dean was by her side. “You okay?”

She turned dark eyes on him and scowled. “No. I’m not. Look I’m coming with you, find those sons of bitches and kick their asses.”

He shook his head. “No you’re not.”

She glared at him and in a low whisper said, “Yes I am.”

“No you’re not.” Dean shook his head, his voice calm and soft. There was a pause before his entire face shifted for a moment to display the pleading in his voice as he said, “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“And I don’t want either of you two idiots walking into a trap alone.”

“Charlotte,” Dean said and he closed his eyes with a quiet sigh before he spoke again, quieter, his eye slowly opening, “please. Stay here. I won't let you get hurt.”

“I’ll be fine.”

He shook his head and moved so that his body face hers and he was inches away from her. “ _Please_ , just, stay.” Then his hands cupped her cheeks and his eyes portrayed the begging that he laced into his words as he whispered, “Stay here. Please.”

It was a moment, her eyes fixed on his desperate ones, her arms hung loosely by her side, before she sighed softly and spoke. “You better come back.”

He offered her a tight smile and nodded. “I will princess.” And she punched his side. Dean moved back with a grin, his hands dropped to his side and he moved to join Sam in the living room. He thanked Bobby for everything, passed one more look to her before he left for Missouri with Sam close on his heels.

“Do you want to make yourself scarce?” Bobby asked. “Gonna be a number of folks asking a lot of questions.”

Charlotte nodded after a moment, realising what he was talking about. “Sure. I’ll erm, I’ll be upstairs.”

And she waited. The paramedics came, asked questions. The cops came, asked questions. Bobby spoke. Lied. Spoke and lied. He finally told her that everybody was gone and she nodded, picked up a book and began to just look at the pages. Her mind was still panicking and creating worst case scenarios. Dean and Sam were out there. Chasing the Demons that had kidnapped their own Dad. They could be in trouble. Danger. Walking into a trap. They _were_ walking into a trap.

She had been staring at the same two pages for God knew how long when she sighed. Her mind had been running wild with ideas and imaginations of what the Demons were doing to two of her best friends in the world. The waiting was killing her. The waiting for a phone call, for anything. The hours ticked by and she finally found her way down the stairs, grabbed a beer and went straight out back.

One of her habits had been to fix up some old heap of junk into a workable vehicle. She had been working on the same car for several years now, only returning to it when she needed a distraction. As soon as one bottle was finished she grabbed another and went straight back outside. Bobby had come out when it was getting dark. “They’ll be fine you know.

“I know,” she said as she fiddled with the wiring underneath the steering wheel. “But I just want to know.”

“I know. I’ll order some food.”

“Okay, let me know when it gets here.”

Pizza arrived thirty minutes later and she dragged herself inside to eat half two slices of a meat feast pizza, each mouthful forced down with nothing but worry for comfort. “Charlotte, grab some sleep."

“I’m not tired.”

“Don’t make me make it an order. Upstairs. Now. And if I hear you touch that car or another beer I’ll beat you myself.”

She fixed her eyes on Bobby for several moments and sighed with a nod. In reality he would never lay a finger on her. But the words he used would let her know when enough was enough and it was time to just try to act normal. She nodded, placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed as she walked past and went to bed. It was automatic how she changed into her pyjamas and climbed into bed.

But she couldn’t sleep.

She spent the minutes and the hours just staring at the ceiling, her phone, the window, her door, willing anything to tell her what was happening. The waiting was the one thing she hated the most. By the time her eyes forced themselves closed it had already gone half three in the morning and by the time she forced herself up and out of bed, unable to restlessly sleep any longer, it was almost six. Her phone followed her everywhere and she decided to work on the car once more.

A phone inside the house started to ring at twelve and she moved purposefully slow to the back door. Bobby already had it to his ear and she could tell that something was wrong. “I’m on my way.” He hung up.

Charlotte wasted no time in making her presence known and askng, “What’s happened?”

“A Demon decided to run a truck into Dean’s car.” Her heart froze. “They’re at the hospital.” It jumped into her throat. “Sam called and asked if I could tow Dean’s car here.”

“I’m going to the hospital,” she managed to worm around the lump in her throat. Bobby hesitated before he nodded. She dumped whatever tools she had been holding onto the kitchen counter, grabbed her keys and allowed Bobby to drive her to the hospital.

She met Sam and grabbed his arms. “Where are they?”

The younger brother looked down at her with a small shake of his head. “Charlotte, just-”

“Where are they Sam?” He gave her the room numbers after trying to tell her that now was not a good time, and she nodded, moving down the corridor and dodging the nurses, doctors and patients with ease. The first room she came to was John’s. The man was awake and he nodded with a tight smile. “How you doing John?”

“Charlotte. Looking good since I last saw you.” He winced as he moved in his seat to sit up. “I’ll be fine.”

“That’s good,” she pointed down the corridor. “I’ll go check in on Dean.” He nodded and she moved further down the corridor. She found his room number and paused. The blinds on the windows were down and the door was open. There was a steady loud, mechanical beating and the sound of air hissing. Her heart raced and she dropped her eyes to the floor as she forced her feet around the corner. Her eyes were closed and she steeled herself with a deep breath for what she was about to see.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise that the next chapter will be up in a couple of days. I'm sorry for the delay but this is the end of season 1/start of season 2. Yes the next chapter shall be that episode. Enjoy the feels.


	34. 2006 - July part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, anything in Italics is Spirit!Dean's POV/talking. Anything in regular typeface is Charlotte's POV/talking. Enjoy.

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls General Hospital_

She stopped two feet in. Took a long, deep breath. Exhaled. And lifted her eyes to meet the bed and the unconscious form in the bed. Her breath caught in her throat and she would deny it to anybody who asked that she forced a whimper to die in the back of her throat. “‘I’ll come back’ he says.” She scoffed and wiped at the tears that wanted to spring.

_He sighed as he watched her. “Charlotte, I’m here. I’m fine. I’m coming back.” The frustration was growing as he stepped around the bed to stand next to her over his body. ‘That’s still weird,’ he thought as he watched his chest rise and fall thanks to the machine attached to him. Dean willed his eyes away to look at Charlotte. “Listen to me, I’m coming back. I am not dying today. I promise you.”_

“You idiot,” she whispered and she grabbed the chair in the room and pulled it up to his bed. She fidgeted before she could settle with her arms folded across her chest and her legs crossed at the ankles in front of her. The position lasted for all of thirty seconds before she moved her body forward and pulled her legs in. Elbows sat on her knees and she clasped her hands on the edges of the bed.

“Dean, you-” she stopped and looked over his face. He looked fine. He looked alright. She hated internal damage. Hated life for being shit at the worst of times. “If you die on me I swear to God I will bring you back to kill you myself.”

_He laughed. “Yeah I know. I don’t plan on dying any time soon.” He was stood behind her now, his arms crossed and his eyes fixed on her, him, her and the window. This was terrible. Shitty. All he wanted was to kick back, drink a beer and maybe even just take Charlotte to bed one more time. “I wish you could hear me,” he said. Then a lump formed. ‘Is that even possible?’ He swallowed it away and sighed, his head ducking._

“ _The Doctors said it doesn’t look good but I swear I am not going without a fight.” He moved to stand next to her, his back to his body as he spoke. “Charlotte.” He growled in frustration. He wished she could just look up at him, hear him out and nod. “Do not give up on me. I mean it. Don’t.” Then he saw the dark shape move past the door. He turned his eyes to Charlotte. “Did you see that?” When she didn’t respond he moved through the room and to the door. He offered the girl one last look before he disappeared into the corridor._

She sighed and stood. Sitting around and waiting for the moment he dies or doesn’t… she shook her head and frowned. She stuffed her hands into her pockets and moved into the corridor to grab herself a coffee. Her heart wrenched itself in her chest as the image of Dean just lying there came back to her. She couldn’t lose Dean, she just couldn’t.

There was a hitch in her breathing and she snivelled, wiped her eyes and nose and pulled her phone from her pocket. She dialled Ellen. “Hey Charlotte bad time to be calling.”

“Can you put Ash on then?”

There were a few seconds before the man’s voice appeared, “You’ve reached the great and awesome Ash how m-”

“Cut the crap and listen to me,” she ran a hand over her face and said, “you know of any voodoo, hoodoo preacher, priest spell, incantation _anything_ that heals anybody?”

“Erm,” the man said, “how bad we talking here?”

“Life or death bad.”

“Honestly? If it’s their time it’s their time.”

“It’s not his time alright! It’s not. So you find my some way to save his sorry ass Ash.”

“Alright! Just, don’t kill me if I bring bad news. I’ll get back to you alright?”

“Thank you.” And she hung up with a sigh. She leaned against the wall, one arm pressed between wall and forehead as she calmed the panic in her chest. If there was one person in the world that could find anything it was Ash.

“ _Thank you! At least somebody’s trying to save my ass.” He folded his arms and leaned against the wall next to her. “You know my Dad’s more concerned about the friggin’ Colt then me. And then there’s the whole he knows something. Oh he knows something about yellow eyes alright.” He sighed and ducked his head. Then he turned his head to Charlotte with a grimace. “I wish somebody could hear me. Talking to myself, talking to you guys without a response, it’s crazy.”_

“ _Wait a minute,” he turned his head to her with a frown. “Who the hell is Ash?” Charlotte just turned and leaned her back against the wall, coffee clutched tightly in her hands._

_He sighed and pushed himself from off the wall and back towards his Dad’s room. If he wasn’t crazy before he certainly was going to be after this. The man had stopped looking over him and was in his own room. “I wish you of all people could hear me,” Dean started. “Find a friggin’ way to me back Dad! Stop chasing that stupid Demon for five minutes and help me!”_

_Then Sam was stalking back into the room. “Sam please tell me you’ve found a way to bring me back. There’s this thing in the hospital and it’s killing people.”_

“ _Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” Sam said._

“ _What are you talking about?” Dean grimaced. ‘Not this,’ he thought as he moved closer to the pair of them._

After grabbing a terrible sandwich in the hospital cafeteria with some fries that she let go cold she decided to move back into Dean’s room. She perched herself in the doorway with a sigh. If anything Dean was going to choose when he was going to wake up. “Lazy ass bitch,” she muttered with a faint smile.

But it was quickly wiped away as alarms started ringing. “Doctor!” She shouted and moved just inside the room. Doctors and Nurses flooded the room and Sam appeared a moment later. “Dean,” she whispered, tears growing in her eyes. “Don’t you dare.”

She nudged herself back, reaching for Sam’s arm, for some physical contact to steady her. Defibrillator paddles were applied and her breathing hitched. “No,” Sam said. She squeezed harder and felt Sam nudge himself closer to her.

“Please,” she whispered.

And something seemed to echo in the background. Above the noises of machines, Doctors, Nurses, something _echoed_. She couldn’t be sure but when the Doctors issued the statement that Dean was still breathing she slumped against the taller Winchester. “Did you hear something?” Sam asked.

She blinked tears out of her eyes and turned, ignoring the wetness that refused to budge. “What?”

“I dunno,” he turned his eyes to the room and to the bed. “Does it feel like Dean’s still here or what?”

She shrugged, “I don’t, I dunno. Maybe.”

He nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

And he left her alone with Dean. The medical staff filed out once they were satisfied that he wasn’t going to conk out in the next few minutes. She gave it a few seconds before she moved to sit back in the chair next to his bed. She sighed. Her phone rang and she answered it, “Yeah?”

“It’s Ash.”

“You find something?”

There was a pause before he answered. “Nobody knows anything about bringing people back from near death. It’s not done. I’m sorry Charlotte but, your buddy’s biting it.”

Tears started to form and she nodded. “Okay,” she managed around the dryness of her throat. “Thanks for everything.”

“Yeah, look, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, bye Ash.” She put her phone back into her pocket and let watery eyes fix themselves on Dean’s face.

_He found Tessa wondering the halls, screaming for people to see her. “Hate to beak it to you,” he said, “But yeah, you’re either dead or dying.”_

“ _How,” she started. “How?” They started walking and Dean tried to offer her a calm expression. In all honesty he was freaking out himself. Eventually they found her room and he offered her a grim expression. “My God,” she said. Then she turned to him. “What about you? How long have you been?”_

“ _Oh erm,” he frowned. “A day I think.”_

“ _Sorry.”_

She sighed. Dean was dying. That was the story. That was the summary of the day. Today was the day that Dean died. Tears prickled her eyes and she felt her phone vibrate again. “Yeah?”

“How’s it going?"

“Not well,” she managed to choke out.

Bobby sighed. “Want me to pick you up?”

“Not yet.”

“Okay,” he said. “Let me know.”

She nodded, told him thank you and hung up. Her eyes were back on Dean and she knew that Bobby would be torn up himself. She pushed her phone back into her pocket and leaned her elbows onto her knees and leaned forward. “God I hate you,” she muttered.

_Dean stood facing her, face creased into a frown. Bad news. There didn’t seem to be any good news today._

“Dean I-” she stopped, sucked in her bottom lip and bit it. Blue eyes found the floor for several moments then she fixed them on his unconscious form. “Since the day I met you I have done nothing but have the urge to hit you.”

_He snorted. “Gee thanks. Nice to know you care.”_

“But,” she carried on, “it’s cause you were a pain in the ass.”

“ _You started it.”_

“Anyway erm,” her hands became really interesting at that moment and she scowled at them. “Doctors say it’s not good and Ash couldn’t seem to find anyone. Outside of making a deal I got nothing.” Her eyes fixed themselves on his face once more.

_His face fell and he simply stared at her. “Charlotte,” he said._

“So I figured I needed to get some things off my chest. You know, before you kick it and everything.”

_“Don’t.”_

“If by some miracle you make it,” she chuckled and steadied the smile on her face. “I’ll deny anything and everything.”

_He moved to stand next to the top of the bed next to her. Tears will still forming in the corners of her eyes and there was one fat drop rolling down her cheek like it owned the flesh. “Don’t do this to yourself, please.” He could feel tears begin to well up in his own eyes._

She took a deep breath, let it out and sighed. Tightened her jaw and frowned as she readied herself to speak. Even the words in her head were making it hard on her throat to speak. “I never, really, hated you. Well, I sort of do.” She eyed him with a lopsided smirk. “But you knew that. Of course you erm, you know that.” She swallowed the growing lump.

_He smirked faintly. “Yeah. I do.”_

She licked her lips and managed to find her voice once more. She gave a little scoff and ducked her head. “I have no idea where this Alex thing is going. Part of me thinks that I did it to spite you. Or to make you jealous. Or... I don’t know!” She sighed and ran a hand over her face. “But I have no idea what I’m doing with him. _That_ ,” she eyed him, “that is the truth.”

_Dean gave a snort. “That much was obvious.”_

“Doesn’t mean if you remember this you’re a dick about it.”

_He settled his expression._

“As I said I will hurt you.”

_Another smirk started to grow._

She sighed. “Every time I saw you I kept thinking, ‘This is it. I won’t see him or his brother again.’ But you kept coming back.”

_He frowned, curious to where the conversation was going._

A faint smile tugged the corners of her lips up. “And every time you came back I started to like you a little more.”

_He crouched in front of her, lifting his eyes up to hers. “I love you.” He swallowed, if that were possible for a ghost, and ducked his head. After a moment he lifted it with a stern expression. “I love you. If I’m dying then I want to say it. I-” he faltered, mouth hanging open. “I love you.”_

She gave a laugh and ducked her eyes from his body. “You are the biggest pain in the ass I’ve ever met. The biggest man whore and I want to hate you.” She lifted her head to eye his unconscious body. “But I can’t I just…” she sighed and a frown started. “There was one thing the Shifter said that I never told you.”

_He leaned closer. “What?”_

“You love me. That’s what it said and…” she left her mouth open, closed it and opened it again. “It scared me. I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t. But then I started thinking and I started to realise that I.” She stopped.

“ _What?”_

“Dean I lo-”

_Sam entered and Dean jumped to his feet. “Dammit Sam! She was just about to say it.” He watched as Charlotte clamped her mouth shut and wiped her eyes. “If there was ever a time I need you to hear me Sam it’s now. Leave. For ten minutes that’s all.” Then he saw what Sam was pulling from the bag he was holding. “The hell is-” a Ouija board. “Oh like that actually works.”_

“Do you really think it’ll work?”

Sam shrugged. “Nothing to lose right.” He set the board on the floor and Charlotte stood behind him, arms folded and eyes fixed on the small wooden tool in the middle of the board. “Dean? Are, are you here?”

She pinched her nails into the folds of her arms and waited, eyes fixed on the wooden pointer. As it moved to point to YES she froze. “Oh my god,” she muttered, “have you been listening this whole time?”

_He smirked and circled the pointer around the YES on the board._

“You asshole,” she muttered. Sam gave her a look and she rolled her eyes. “Nothing.”

_NOT NICE. He spelt out with a glare._

“Yeah well you deserve it.”

“Charlotte can we,” Sam said. “Okay,” Sam turned his attention back to the board. The pointer moved again. H. U. N. “Hunt? You’re hunting?” YES. “What are you hunting?” R. E. A. P “A reaper?” YES. Charlotte turned her eyes to the floor. Reapers were natural in hospitals and there was no way to kill one that anybody knew about. Dean was dead. “No,” Sam said. “No, no, no, no. There, there has to be a way.” And he was leaving once more.

She followed him with her eyes and sighed. A reaper. There was no stopping a reaper. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the pointer moving and stepped closer to the board. TALK. She sat down and took a hold of the other side. “Dean? You seem screwed.”

_He glared. “Thanks for that,” and moved the pointer to YES. He sighed. That was what they did he guessed. They fought so they didn’t have to admit anything. He always attacked her when she made some personal comment and she did the same thing. “I know you can’t hear me but at least I can talk to you now.” He started to move to the letters on the board. SHIF._

“Shifter.” She sighed.

_YES. “It’s true,” he said and he eyed her. Then he started to move it again. TRUE. LOVE YOU._

“Dean,” she whined, tears starting to form again. “Stop it.”

“ _Nope,” he smirked sadly. “I may be dying so I want to say it. If Sammy asks though, or anyone, I didn’t say anything. Like you said.” SAY IT. DYING._

Another fat tear rolled down her cheek. “Dean.”

_PLEASE._

She took in a shaky breath and turned her eyes about the room. “Where are you?”

_ACROSS._

She turned her head to face him.

_He let go of the pointer and looked at her. The tears he kicked himself for but he wanted to hear it. Before he died before he kicked the bucket he wanted to hear her say it._

“I,” she hesitated, sucked in her bottom lip and let a breath out. “I love you.” Then she ducked her head and let out a sob. “I hate you,” she muttered and she got to her feet and wiped at her eyes. “You son of a bitch,” she choked out between sobs.

_He touched the pointer once more and spelt out the words THANK YOU before he stood and looked at her. “I mean it,” he said. “Thank you.” And then he was turning his eyes back to the door as Sam entered, their Dad’s journal in hand._

“Dad’s gone.”

“What?”

“ _What?”_

Charlotte hurriedly wiped her eyes and moved to follow Sam across the room. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” then he saw her and frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Shut up and open the damn book.” She pushed his shoulder into opening their Dad’s journal. Sam complied and turned to the pages John Winchester had written about Reapers. “What’s it say?”

Sam shook his head. “Nothing that helps Dean.”

“Dammit,” she said.

“ _I’m not going with you,” he told Tessa once he’d learnt that she was the Reaper. “My family’s in danger and my little brother could die.”_

_Tessa just smiled politely. “Dean, even if I did let you stay, they’ll die anyway and you’ll be left to hang around. In a hundred years or so you might get sad. Crazy. It may even drive you to violence.” He frowned and she offered him a sympathetic look. “How do you think angry spirits are born? They can’t let go and they can’t move on. If I leave you here you’ll just become one.”_

_Dean screwed his face up in weary sadness. That was the last thing he wanted. But he didn’t want to go either. At least not without saying goodbye properly. “Can, can I say goodbye?”_

_She shook her head. “I’m sorry Dean. But don’t you think Charlotte’s hurt enough.”_

“ _To my brother at least.”_

_She shrugged her shoulder. “I can’t do that. I can only take you on.”_

“ _To where?”_

_“I can’t ruin the big punchline for you.”_

_He sighed. The lights started to flicker and he stepped away from the bed he’d been sitting on. “What are you doing that for?”_

“ _I’m not,” she said. Black smoke started to appear and Dean began to back away towards the door. “You can’t do this!” He watched in shock as it moved into the Reaper and she turned to him. Her eyes were black and she smiled sardonically. “Today’s your lucky day kid.” And she touched his head._

Dean spluttered, coughed and woke. “Dean?” Sam said.   
  
“We need help in here!” Charlotte called through the door. Seconds later Nurses and Doctors were in the room and dealing with him. She turned her eyes up to Sam with a smile. “He made it.” The minutes passed and once he was cleared they approached the bed once more. “How you feeling?”

“Fine,” he said with a frown. “I’m alive?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, “well good job.” Dean only frowned further. “With the reaper.” Deeper. “That was after you.”

“What?”

Charlotte’s face dropped. “You don’t, you don’t remember?”

Dean shook his head. “I remember being in the car, then I’m waking up here.”

John Winchester appeared at the door and everyone turned to see him. “It’s good to see you son.”

“Yeah,” Dean said.

“Where were you last night?”

“Sam,” Charlotte and Dean whined together.

“I had some things to take care of.” He moved into the room and eyed his taller son. “Sammy you can be angry all you want, but I don’t want to fight anymore. Half the time we argue I don’t even know what it’s about. We’re just butting heads. I’ve done what I thought was best for you and I’ve made some mistakes. Can we not argue?”

“Are you alright?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, just tired. Would you two mind grabbing me and Dean something eat and drink?”

Charlotte nodded with a frown and pulled Sam out of the room. “Well Dean’s alive.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. A smile started to form and he moved to the coffee machine.

Charlotte dug her phone out of her pocket and dialled Bobby. “So Dean’s fine. He lives to annoy us another day,” she bit her lip and frowned. “Could you pick us up in an hour or two? Thanks.” And she hung up. _He didn’t remember anything._ The corners of her eyes crinkled and she gritted her teeth. _I love you._ Words spilt for what? Nothing. She shook her head and grabbed a few snacks from the vending machine. Until they could get some actual food this would do.

She and Sam started back to the Winchester rooms and stopped as they passed John’s room. The coffee was abandoned on the floor and Charlotte dropped the stuff she had to yell for help. Dean hobbled over and Charlotte let him lean on her as he peered into the room full of Nurse and Doctors. A Nurse had tried to shuffle the three of them out and Dean had only yelled that it was their Dad. They watched as chest compressions were started and fluids were inserted. “Come on,” he hissed.

“Don’t die,” Charlotte muttered.

“Okay,” one of the Doctors said. Charlotte’s heart dropped. _No_. Dean seemed to slump on her and she backed up to hold him up. “I’m calling it.” _No_. “Time of death, 10:41 AM.”

 


	35. 2006 - July part 3

__South Dakota – Sioux Falls_ _

Charlotte sighed as she stood by the back door. Since Sam and Dean had burnt their Dad's body just over two days ago all Dean had seemed to do was work on his car. She'd offered to help but he'd shook his head with a frown and told her "I'm fine." It left no room for argument so she had left it.

And he was there again. Working away. She turned back into the house and joined Sam at the small desk in the kitchen. "How are you doing Sammy?"

He lifted his head from his Dad's journal. "What?"

A faint smile pulled the corner of her mouth up. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," he muttered, turning his head back into his Dad's book. She rolled her eyes. __Brothers.__ Any trace of a smile was gone and she shuffled forward to lean her elbows on the desk and her chin in her palms. Blue eyes fixed themselves on the brown ones that worked to avoid her. She could see it in his shoulders, in his small little sighs, in the nervous leg jittering he did. Everything screamed not fine. He eyed her. Shuffled in his seat. Looked at her. Sighed and finally let the book drop a few inches in the air. "Stop it."

"Sam," she drew out. Bobby was out grabbing supplies from the shop and she had been left to make sure neither brother killed each other or themselves. The tension was high and it was ready to burst. Both brothers had been tetchy not just with each other but with her and Bobby too. In all honesty it was driving her crazy and she was moments away from punching one or both of them in the face. "You're not fine." Her voice softened and she dropped one arm down to let her hand fall of the table towards her. The other dropped straight onto his arm. "Please, talk to me." She gave it a gentle squeeze and tried to reassure him with a smile.

She didn't miss the swallow and she retracted her arm in hopes it would entice him to speak. "I'm fine," he said. "It just, it's just going to take some time."

Charlotte sighed and dropped her head. "Sam it's me. I'm not going to complain at you if you have a chick flick moment. I'm not going to tell you to man up or get over it. Your Dad just died."

"I know."

"Then show something! Be angry! Cry! Shout! Please! Just," her voice had dropped to a near whisper. "Just don't do the silent thing. That isn't you."

Sam let his Dad's journal drop onto the desk then and sighed. "I am angry okay. It's not fair that Dean makes a recovery and then he has to die. I mean," he took a breath and Charlotte ground her teeth as she watched him. Waiting. One of Sam's hands rubbed the space between nose and mouth and he was shaking his head. "I'm pissed. We'd finally found him. We finally could talk to him and I don't know, pretend we were some sort of messed up family again." His eyes flashed onto hers. He gulped and ducked his head. "Sorry."

She frowned. "For what?"

He cleared his throat and shuffled in his seat. "Talking about family. I, I know it's never easy for you to listen to me and Dean talk about it."

She waved a hand at him. "You, Dean and Bobby are my family. John was too," she took his hand in hers and squeezed it. "You're a part of my messed up family. If you need to talk about it, no matter how much I hate chick flick, I will deal with it."

Sam gave a chuckle at that. "Thanks." He squeezed her hand back and actually smiled. It was one of the first genuine smiles she'd seen him wear since John died. "I guess that's the best you could do."

Charlotte rolled her eyes and stood. "I'm awesome like that."

There was another small chuckle and Charlotte moved to the fridge. She heard Sam snort shortly before he said, "Yeah some days."

She grabbed two beers, popped the lids and turned back to face the room. "Try all days." Her feet moved her back across the room to him and she placed one of the bottles in front of him. Then she noticed the water in the corners of his eyes. "Aw shit," she said. Her beer was abandoned on the desk next to his and she stood behind him and slipped her arms around his shoulders. Sam shook and his hands found her arms and he gripped them.

"I just-"

"I know," she nodded and moved her head to place her nose against the back of his head. "I know Sam."

"Dad he-"

"Yeah," she placed a gentle kiss to the top of his head and frowned into his head of brown hair. For several seconds they just sat and stood there. The physical contact spoke enough and worked to solidify them both to the ground. The seconds stretched and they soon turned into minutes. Charlotte let a thought drift across her mind and whispered, "Hey Sam?"

The tall man snivelled, "Yeah?"

"You let anybody know I was kind, I'm going to break your nose."

It had its desired effect and Sam's body shook from laughter. "Yeah," he sniffed. "Thanks you erm, you really know how to make a guy feel better? "

"Yep," she grinned and moved her face to kiss his cheek. "That's in the agreement too."

"Sure," he said.

She let go and took a sip of her beer. "I have a reputation to uphold thank you."

"Whatever," he muttered with a smirk and she retook her seat at the desk. Comfortable silence surrounded them and Sam finally wiped his face and cleared his throat. "You talked to Dean yet?"

"Nope," she took another sip of her beer. "I ain't touching that with a silver bullet."

Charlotte smiled proudly to herself as Sam gave another laugh. She was thankful that she could bring that smile to his face when she was certain that he wanted to do nothing but the opposite. "We should probably try talking to him."

She raised her brows at him. "Didn't you try that? And didn't he effectively tell you to get lost?" Sam sighed and Charlotte shook her head. "If you want I'll give it a go later on. I hold no promises though."

"Thanks." She nodded and took another sip of beer. She hoped to hell Bobby was stocking up because no doubt they would need more and soon.

As the hours passed and food was eaten, beer drank, mild conversations trickling by, Bobby called it a night early. Sam had asked about the spare room not soon after and she had nodded. It was still there. Once the youngest Winchester was gone the sounds that Dean had been making whilst fixing up the Impala were loud.

__Too loud._ _

She sighed. He didn't remember anything from the hospital. Nothing. Not a single word about what she had said, what __he__ had said. Nothing. That was the other thing that had been playing on her mind. She bit the inside of her bottom lip something fierce and hissed as she drew the faintest drop of blood. A shaky breath let itself out. She hated him. She truly did. And that was why she grabbed another beer from the fridge and carried it to the back door.

Dean was bent over the old engine block, busy fixing that up whilst everybody else slept. With a sigh she stepped out into the chilling night air and approached the work bench. He didn't even lift his head. __Screw you too__. "What?" he said.

"I brought you a beer."

That made him look up. "Thanks." And back to his work. She sighed. Nothing. She sighed again. He seemed to frown at that and she groaned. Loudly. The tension in his jaw was clear as he ground his teeth, pressed his hands into the bench and latched his eyes onto hers. "What?"

She set her blazing eyes on his. "Stop it with the silence."

"I'm fine."

"No you're not!" She groaned as she remembered people were getting into bed and sighed. In a lower voice she said, "You're not fine Dean. Just, please, do something."

She saw his jaw tighten some more and he picked up a screwdriver and moved to the car. "I am."

"Fixing up your car is not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

He wasn't even looking at her and she could feel her temper rising. She was going to throttle him. She was. With purpose she stormed next to him and wrenched the screwdriver from his hands. He stood up with a sigh and simply looked at her. "This silent thing you have going on. It isn't you."

"You said that," and he turned on his heels and moved into the garage. His hands began searching through the toolboxes for another screwdriver.

She slammed the tool onto the workbench and marched up to him. "So stop it. Please." He glanced at her and she saw the look in his eyes darken. That didn't stop her. "This isn't healthy."

"Scuse me," he started to brush past her.

Charlotte wrapped one hand around his upper arm and pulled. He stopped and turned his head. And she saw fiery eyes. Mad anger. Devastation. Stress. Fear. Infuriation. There was a clatter of metal on concrete and his other hand grabbed the back of her head, screwed itself up in her hair and pulled her towards him. His other hand worked itself free in her initial shock and he grabbed her shoulder and held her tightly. His mouth found hers.

It was sloppy. Rough. Lustful. Desperate. Bruising. Full of needing and desire. His fingers dug into her skin and she couldn't help the response. Her mouth worked to match his and soon he was forcing her back until she hit the workbench. Then he was pressing his body against hers, pushing her into the bench and holding her firmly in front of him. His hands moved to her waist, leaving finger prints on her bare flesh in purple bruises and she groaned.

The boundary between pain and pleasure was blurring fast and she felt the fire begin to burn in her own stomach. She hated Dean. Hated him with a passion. And that passion was sex. "God," she muttered into the hollow of his neck as his mouth started to attack her neck. His mouth burnt a hot, needy trail down her neck.

Fingernails dug into his shoulders through his shirt and he squeezed the flesh above her hips that little more. He ground his hip into hers and a growl started low in his gut. "Cassie," he whispered.

Charlotte's head snapped forward and she put both hands on his chest and pushed him away. "What?"

Dean's eyes snapped open and after a moment they widened. His mouth dropped open as he tried to work some words into his mouth. "I- No, I-" She shook her head, suddenly overwhelmed by the mixture of emotions inside of her and she was close to an edge she hadn't seen in a long time. She pulled herself free from him. "Wait," he said. "Charlotte!" He grabbed her arm. In that moment, everything snapped. She spun and threw a fist to his face. It hit his left eye. He let go and staggered back from the surprise. "Jesus Christ!" he shouted. He pulled back a hand from his face and stared at her. "Really?"

Charlotte felt a tremor begin in her hands. "Really. I care if you're miserable because you just lost your Dad. I care and I know that it feels like the end of the world." She took a step closer to him and she could feel tears starting to brim her eyes. "But locking us out? Treating __us__ like crap? Ignoring us? Thinking you can say or do whatever the hell you want and we're supposed to accept that because you're mourning?! " One tear escaped and it tracked a line down her face. "Well screw you Dean. Do me, do us __all__ a favour and sort your crap out soon so that we don't have to deal with your crap on top of the crap we already have! How about for once you think about us. You think about how shitty we might be feeling and you actually __consider__ that we care a hell of a lot too and _ _talk__ about it. Or is that too chick for Dean Winchester?"

She scoffed, wiped her face of the tears that were falling and turned on her heels. "Charlotte," he called softly. She just moved on. Desperate to get away. Desperate to get away from him. Up the stairs and straight to her room. Once the door was closed the tears refused to hold themselves back. They jumped down her face in heavy streams and her body jerked with each sob. She couldn't help the verbal vomit. She couldn't hold it back and just let it go. Hell she wasn't sure she meant half of it. Part of her felt better for it whilst another part was curling itself up. The loss of her Dad had come back on her and the memories had been taunting her for days now.

Maybe that was it. Old memories being dredged up, stirred around by John dying. Then Dean ready to die. The Shifter. Love. Alex. Bobby. Pretending to _want_ a normal life. Pretending to _have_ a normal life. Everything just… _ _snapped__.

Through the dirty tears she managed to crawl atop her bed, wrench a pillow to her chest and let the last vestiges of tears loose and curled her legs up. A strange fuzzy warmth settled itself around her and she welcomed it in through the blurred darkness creeping up from the shadows. As the last glimpses of conscious life sunk itself under the black comfort the smell of engine oil and grease invaded her nostrils.

"I'm sorry," whispered itself through the dark and forced her to frown into oblivion.

 


	36. 2006 - July part 4

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

When Charlotte woke it was still dark outside of her windows. She frowned, wiped roughly at her face and turned then closed her eyes. Blue orbs snapped open and fixed themselves on the frowning face of a sleeping Dean Winchester. Puffed red eyes stared. She didn’t remember inviting him to bed. In fact she remembered punching him. In the face.

And yelling. Crying. Shouting. She sucked the corner of her bottom lip in and just stared. The moon trickled in enough light to throw shadows across his face. But she could swear there was the hint of a bruise around his left eye.

But she was angry at him. _Cassie_. She glared now. A yawn took over and she screwed her head into her pillow. Or the bare space where her pillow should’ve been. With a quiet sigh she sat up, shuffled her bedding around and lay back down with her back to Dean.

Seconds passed and then there was something warm wrapping itself around her waist and pulling her back. Then Dean’s nose was on the back of her neck. “Dean,” she whispered.

She felt him freeze. “Charlotte,” he whispered.

The roll of her eyes were the natural response and the words that fell from her mouth couldn’t be helped. “Now you remember.”

There was a sigh from behind her. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you in my bed?” There was silence and she frowned. “Dean?” More silence. She rolled over and the smell of engine oil and grease infiltrated her senses. Then she realised how close he was and froze herself. Green eyes locked themselves onto hers in a deep frown that held something behind them. After several seconds of silence she managed to push out the word, “Dean?”

More silence and she felt herself grow uncomfortable. His arm still hung over her waist and he was still staring, the other hand tucked underneath his pillow. He still wasn’t saying anything but his eyes moved around her face and then they landed back on her eyes. Charlotte frowned at him. There was something going on behind his eyes. The thoughts she wanted to know, she wanted to hear him speak at least. The silence was killing her.

She sighed and turned, ready to kick her feet over the edge of her bed. “Come back,” he said, dragging her back.

A sigh escaped her again and she settled down next to him. “What?”

Then silence. She bit her tongue to stop herself from sighing or making some remark. He would speak in his own time. More silence. His arm moved to settled his hand on her waist. It moved to meet her arm, over her shoulder and around her neck. Her breath hitched as he gently ran a thumb over her jaw. She frowned into his touches and parted her mouth in worry. “Dean?”

He closed the gap and gently placed his mouth against hers. It was gentle, kind and different from any other kiss they’d ever had. She fell into it with no hesitation. Her hand found his arm and she held onto him, as his tongue asked for permission which she gave. The minutes passed as he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms tightly around her as he kept up the gentle pursuit.

When they did pull away there was a flush settling in on her cheeks and she eyed his still frowning features. “I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice.

“I shouldn’t have hit you,” she muttered.

Then a smile tweaked the corner of his mouth. “I deserved that. I called you Cassie.”

She let a smile start. “Next time I’ll just call you Alex.”

And Dean gave a slight chuckle. “Fair enough.” Then he was back to staring at her. “Come here,” and he was kissing her again. Fingers folded themselves into the front creases of his shirt and she was letting him drag her down into whatever passion this was. It wasn’t the normal lust that overtook them. It wasn’t a need or desire that had previously ravished each other. It was something more.

This time when he pulled away he remained close enough that their noses brushed and he simply lay there for several minutes. She could feel the flush work down her body and she enjoyed the moment she had. The silence was bearable this time and she waited. “I’m not okay,” he said after a moment.

She bit the inside of her cheek and nodded. Then he started again, “How is it that he dies so I get to live?”

“There might’ve been something wrong with him that the Doctor’s missed.”

He shook his head. “You don’t seriously believe that do you?”

She shrugged one shoulder, “I’d like to pretend alright?”

“I just don’t get why he had to something like that.”

Charlotte sighed. “Because you’re his son. He loves you and he didn’t want to lose you.”

Dean stared at her for a whole minute and she bit her bottom lip. He finally spoke in a low voice, “Doesn’t mean I’m happy with it.”

A faint smile started on her face. “Nobody is Dean. I’m not and he wasn’t even my Dad.” She hesitated before she placed a kiss to his nose. “But unfortunately we can go only move forward.”

“How did you manage?” When she frowned at him he sighed. “When you lost your Dad? How did you manage?”

“Well,” she started, “for one I cried. Then you know, Bobby was there. You. Sam. John. But I was twelve years old. I hadn’t seen or done much in terms of monsters so I cried. Eventually I accepted that he wouldn’t be coming back. I’m still not okay with it, I mean, part of me still waits for him to walk back through the door.” She sighed and took a shaky breath. _Damn you Winchester_. “I moved on.”

The frown on his face was deep and she couldn’t help but to feel sorry for him. He was twenty seven. Not the young teen she had been and if she knew Dean then she knew there was anger brewing up inside of him. And he was bottling it up. She placed a hand on his cheek and drew him in for one long kiss on the mouth. When she pulled away this time he was staring at her, his frown letting up slightly. “Let’s get some sleep.”

She rolled over and pushed herself into his body. His arm tightened around her waist once more. Sleep begged for her to close her eyes but she waited until Dean seemed to settle against her, light snores coming from his mouth, before she smiled gently and closed her eyes. Darkness took her and she settled into the comforts of the dark.

Knocking was what woke her. “Charlotte? You up?” It was Sam. She groaned and rolled over to find that Dean was no longer with her. A sudden pang of pain hit her and she shook it away as Sam shouted, “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” She sat up and found that there was a cover laid over her. She made a mental note to ask Dean what the hell.

Sam entered and he was frowning. “You don’t know where Dean is do you?”

Now she frowned. “No why?”

“We haven’t seen him.”

She opened her mouth to reply when a thought hit her. With one roll she was facing away from Sam and checking the bedside cabinet for her car keys. “I’m going to kill him,” she said as she threw the cover away and grabbed her phone. There was one rule, _one rule_ she had. Nobody touches her car. Even if he was grieving it wasn’t hard to follow one rule was it?

“So,” Sam started awkwardly.

She frowned up at him. “What?” He shook his head with a tight smile and she folded her arms across her chest and glared up at him. “Sammy?”

“So Dean was in here last night then? I see what you mean by talking to him later.”

“Pervert,” she muttered as she turned and left him. “If you must know I talked to him outside. Punched him in the face and then he came to apologise.”

“Wait a minute?” They were at the top of the stairs by now and Bobby could be heard pottering around downstairs. “He apologised? What for?”

She shrugged, “For being a jerk.”

“Well did it have anything to do with why you were shouting at him last night?”

“What did you hear?”

“I couldn’t make any of it out but, you were pissed.”

She nodded. “Well it’s staying like that since he stole my car.” And she turned and made her way down the stairs, phone in hand. Dean’s number had already been dialled and she was stalking to the back yard passing a “Morning” to Bobby as she passed. Dean picked up. “You took my car!”

“Yeah I know.”

“Dean! _My_ car!”

“I’ll bring it back.”

“Oh you better. If there is even a scratch I will kill you.”

“I just,” he sighed, “I just needed some space.”

“You couldn’t ask?”

“You would’ve said no.”

“So?”

“Charlotte!”

“What?”

“Just,” his voice was calm as he spoke. “I’ll be back with it in one piece. I promise.”

She sighed and ducked her head, her free hand to her face. “Just tell me where you’re going?”

There was a pause before he answered. “Please Charlotte? All I need is a day or two alone.”

She bit her lip and pushed down a growing growl. “Fine,” and she hung up. The broken Impala stared back at her and she sighed, shoved her phone into her pocket and moved back into the house for a cup of coffee.

“Well?” Sam asked.

“I dunno but he’ll be back in a day or two.”

“And you let him have your car?” Bobby asked.

“No. So I’m wringing his neck when he gets back.” She grabbed a piece of toast off Sam’s plate and moved back outside with both items. The least she could do was move the repairs along. So she set her cup down, finished her toast and picked up an assortment of tools. _So last night was…. What?_ As she worked on putting panels on the car her mind went back to what happened in to garage and to what happened after that to what happened when she had woken up in the middle of the night. It was a muddle of messages and signals and she could not make heads or tails of it all.

With a sigh she forced any and all thoughts of Dean out of her mind and focused on fixing the Impala. She could chew him out later and even punch him if she wanted. For now, she just wanted to pretend it was just her and the broken car in front of her.  


	37. 2006 - August

_Louisiana - Kenner_

Charlotte had grown tired of Dean’s up and down mood swings. One day he would smile at her and let her near his car, even teasing her, the next day he was nothing but scowls and growling at her to get lost and leave him the hell alone.

So she’d found a job in Louisiana. A possible vampire attack. And Sam had joined her for the hunt. He’d been eager to get away from the salvage yard and do something too. They had already changed their clothes and booked into a motel, in which they could only get one room. The rest were full and it held one large bed. She had grumbled and shrugged it off. When Sam had offered to sleep on the floor she shook her head. She could take one night or two of sharing a bed with a giant. The youngest Winchester had pulled a face at that.

And then they’d set off for the Police Station. As they closed the doors to her car Sam asked, “So is there a thing between you and Dean?”

“Yes.”

“And right now you two are?”

She turned her eyes on him. The days of a short tempered and temperamental Dean had worn thin on her patience and the containment of her anger. “Your brother’s a grade A dick Sam. For the unforeseeable future I don’t wanna be anywhere near him.” She opened the door to the Police Station. “Can we just focus on dead people and Vampires?”

“I’m just saying,” they flashed their FBI badges at the front desk, “I thought you would be able to ease his mood.”

Charlotte turned her head on the taller man with narrowed eyes. She’d managed to open her mouth when the Captain of the station appeared. Gritting her teeth she turned to the man, “Hi, Agent Sheriden and this is my partner Agent Franklin. You have a case about bloodless bodies am I correct?”

The man frowned at the pair of them. “Ain’t you two a little young for the FBI?”

“What can I say,” she plastered a smile on her face, “we’re starting out younger. But the killer we believe is part of an on-going investigation and your co-operation to help determine if this is a serial or a standalone would be greatly appreciated.”

Captain Lorenzo seemed to take a moment before he nodded and signalled for them to follow them. In the moment they had to speak Charlotte leaned over and up to Sam to hiss, “What the hell was that supposed to mean? Ease his mood? How?” The man turned eyes down with a knowing look and she punched him.

“Ow!"

Lorenzo turned curious eyes over his shoulder, “You alright?”

Sam cleared his throat and dropped the hand from his arm, “Yeah, fine.” He looked to Charlotte to see her glaring at him. He’d pissed her off. _Great_. “Just a twinge in my arm.”

Lorenzo turned back around with a shake of his head, Charlotte turned and followed and Sam sighed as he caught up to them in the coroner’s room. The coroner spoke of how skin had been ripped apart by some kind of animal fangs and the blood drained from the body. Eventually they left, after making promises to update the Police, and made it back to her car before they started to discuss the case. Sam spoke first, “Looks like a Vamp kill. I say we-”

“Scout out the less looked upon places for a nest. Keep an ear out for any other kills and follow the trail. Where’d you wanna start?”

Sam turned his eyes to the buildings around them and he straightened when he spotted the local bar. “I’d say that’s a good place to start.”

Charlotte turned her eyes to the bar and nodded, “Then what are we waiting for?”

Sam followed behind her with a frown. He could tell something was on her mind and that she was off. Something was bugging her. With a frown he stood next to her at the bar, one hand on the surface and turned his body to her. She was glaring into the bottles in the small fridges behind the bar. Glaring. He noticed she did that a lot. After a moment more of glaring he cleared his throat, “What?”

“What’s up with you?”

Now she looked at him, glaring slipping away to be replaced with a frown. “Nothing why?”

“You’re looking at everything like you're ready to murder it. A lot. And you're easily riled.”

And she was back to glaring. “I’m fine.” She turned away from him.

“Charlotte,” the bar seemed busy for a Thursday night and Sam took solace in that it gave him time to talk to Charlotte without Bobby or Dean interrupting. The entire car journey here had been filled with music or her sleeping. “I’m going to be honest, whatever’s going on between you and Dean, fix it.” She turned her eyes back onto him and he watched as she opened her mouth to reply. “I don’t care that he’s a dick or that you’re a bitch. I really don’t. Just, whatever is going on, fix it. I’ve had enough of it and I’m sure Bobby has too. So please, I’ve tried talking to Dean and he’s hell bent on ignoring me. You are going to talk him and work this crap out.”

He was saved from whatever answer she was about to give when the bartender came to them. Sam asked the man questions about anybody new in town, about the victim, about anything that could possibly help them. The guy behind the bar proved to be helpful. He told them of a couple that had arrived in town just three days before the first victim, a poor teenager had been torn to shreds. When asked if he any idea where they were staying he shook his head but mentioned something about them asking about the local areas, the outer areas of the town.

Back at the motel they talked around food. Sam had found a map whilst Charlotte researched local areas. Soon they were able to cross off a great portion and were left with three areas to check out. As night was dawning they decided to check out the places in the morning, when the Vamps would be weakened and sleeping.

Sam used the bathroom first and Charlotte had found her hand slipping to her phone throughout the day. They’d brushed against the cold metal and hesitated before they slipped away. Now she was waiting for the bathroom with her eyes fixed on the map in her hands, mind thinking about Sammy’s words from before. She hated the Winchesters. Some days she wished she’d never met them. At least her life would be a whole lot simpler right?

With a shake of her head she stood and flattened the map onto the table. Sam left the bathroom and she turned to grab her stuff but hesitated. Her phone drifted into her thoughts and she bit back a growl of frustration. She did a 180 spin and moved to the door, “I’ll be back soon,” she offered a frowning Sam and left.

The door closed and she sighed. Her entire body seemed to sigh with her and she lifted her eyes to the moon. It was still warm out and she took a few steps from the motel door, one hand fishing her phone from her pocket. Blue eyes found Dean's name and she sighed before she pressed dial. Her feet carried her further out into the parking lot, somewhat expecting Sam to be listening in and wanting this to be a private conversation. “How’s the hunt going?”

_He watched from a distance, his eyes frowning. They weren't focused on her but on the shadows. He held his breath. They were watching her and he curled his hands into fists. It would be so easy to intervene, to stop anything from happening, but he couldn't. “Come on Charlotte,” he whispered to himself._

_When she'd gotten involved in hunting he hadn't been surprised. He blamed himself for that, kept the weight of it on his shoulders as he watched her, hoping that she never took a wrong turn towards certain death. That would be something he could never live with._

_Right now he was close to making his presence known, to reaching out and protecting her from the trouble that lay in wait, watching her from the shadows._

“Oh you know, same old same old.” She frowned and sucked in her bottom lip. “Dean this thing, between us, what is it?”

“What’s what?”

Her expression dropped to irritation. “You know what.” Silence. More silence. “Dean be honest with me here, what do you want?”

“I dunno.”

She bit the end of her tongue and tightened her jaw. Some days she really hated the Winchesters. “Helpful.”

“What do you want me to say? That I want a house with a white picket fence, 2.5 kids and a dog? An apple pie life? Cause I don’t know if I want that! I dunno if that’s my kind of thing.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

“Then what are you asking?”

She gritted her teeth and debated just hanging up and trying another day. Whatever had happened in the hospital part of her wished to hell he remembered it. “If you want there to be an us. Forget the white fence and the kids. I don’t want to think about any of that for a _long_ time. But us Dean. Is there going to be an us or not? Are we going to keep dropping our pants for the other because it’s good or because of something else?”

There was a rustle of bushes to her left and she turned, eyes narrowed. Silence struck over the phone and she stopped herself from saying anything. There was nothing in the bushes that she could see at least. But that didn’t make her any less wary. The silence over the phone was loud in her ears and she turned when there was a rush of movement behind her.

Now she was worried.

Her hand reached to the band in her jeans and she cursed herself. Her gun was inside along with anything else she would carry to defend herself. _Great_. “Charlotte,” Dean finally spoke. “I- I want-”

Something heavy tackled her to the ground and her phone skittered across the asphalt. There was a hiss in her ear and she rolled, throwing an elbow up. “Oh you got a fighter!”

There was a hand around her neck and she turned blue eyes up to see a set of sharp fangs retract into gums. It pulled her to her feet and up. “Who are you?”

Charlotte struggled against the grip on her neck as fingers tried to claw at the skin to no effect. Toes scraped along the floor. She stared into the Vamps eyes and managed to lift a foot to the Vampires chest. It dropped her and she stepped back. “Sam! Sammy!”

There were two of them, a couple, a guy and a girl just as the bartender had said, and they were circling her. This was not going to end well. “I can hear her heart. She’s scared.”

“No I’m not,” she threw to the male Vampire. “I’m getting ready to fight.”

The woman laughed and Charlotte threw her eyes to the door of their motel room. _Come on Sammy._ “Who’s Sam?” the woman asked.

Before she could answer the guy had one arm around her body and one hand around her throat. “We’ll savour her. She’s a fighter.” He sniffed her neck and she tried to pull away. “Oh you’ll be delicious. Hunter, something special.”

Seconds later Sam appeared in the parking lot, gun in hand. At first he hadn’t been sure he’d heard her shouting, then when he looked he spotted Charlotte between two people, the Vampires he assumed. It had only taken him three seconds to get to the table where his gun was, get back to the door and open it.

But they weren’t there. “Charlotte?” Sam followed the tiny voice of his brother to find Charlotte’s phone. “Charlotte? Talk to me are you there?”

“Dean?”

“Where is she?”

Sam let his eyes stray to the area around himself once more and sighed. “The Vampires got her.”

 


	38. 2006 - August part 2

_Louisiana - Kenner_

Sam had been up all night, dragging the car to the three locations that he and Charlotte had wanted to scout out in the morning. Neither the Vampires or Charlotte were at any of the locations, which meant that they were somewhere different. But he couldn’t find her. For hours he searched abandoned looking buildings, old ones, locked ones, and he still hadn’t had any luck. “Dammit!” He growled as he threw open the door to the motel room. It was nearing on the next night and he was beginning to grow worried that it was too late.

Then there was a knock at the door. With a frown he pulled his gun out, slowly twisted the handle and cracked it open. With a sigh he let the door fall open as Dean stormed in. “What happened?”

“She was outside talking to you when she must’ve gotten jumped.”

“And you weren’t with her?”

“We’d agreed to call it a night Dean. I was in bed.”

Dean stared at his younger brother for several seconds before he turned his eyes to the room. He noticed the singular bed. “One bed?”

“It was all they had left.”

“Well Casanova,” he said turning back to his younger brother, “what have you got?”

Sam sighed, ignoring Dean's point, and moved over to the table in the room. “Two Vampires, a couple. They’ve killed three people so far and I was able to rule out any of the outlying factories, warehouses or mills. Which means that they’re somewhere in town.”

Dean turned his eyes down to the map with a frown. He pointed to an area, “Have you tried-”

“Yes. Wherever they’re hiding it’s not their usual place.”

“Great.”

Across town Charlotte stirred. The male Vampire, who she had learnt was called Thomas, had knocked her out and carried her to this place. Wherever it was it was dark and she could smell damp and gasoline in the air. As she woke up she felt the chains around her hands and her arms dragged up and over her head. She tilted her head back with a sigh. “Son of a bitch,” she muttered.

“She’s awake!” The woman, Evelyn, said with a chirpy voice.

Thomas walked into view with a grin and stopped just a foot in front of her. “You Hunters are all the same. Killing us whilst we’re just trying to survive. We’re an endangered species now.”

“Yeah? Well you can take your endangered species to hell.”

Thomas hissed and rushed forward. Charlotte reared her head back and she held her breath as his face found her neck. Then he froze, mouth positioned over her flesh and eyes on her. He laughed. And laughed. “You’re scared.” She gritted her teeth and just stared at him. He pulled away enough to grin at her before he pushed her head to one side and sunk his teeth into her shoulder. She yelled through gritted teeth as fangs tore through flesh, ripped the skin from her and sunk itself into the muscle of her shoulder. Then came the sucking of blood. Another groan hit her and she sunk her head into her other arm. Blood was pulled through her chest and out through the open wound and into Thomas’ mouth and she could feel every pull, like a wire being dragged through her body and out of her neck. Her heart jumped in her chest and her vision started to go.

The last thing she saw before she blacked out from the pain was Thomas grinning, mouth covered in red. He brought Evelyn over and offered Charlotte’s shoulder as a gift. The two shared a kiss, some words about “She tastes special,” before fangs were sunk into her flesh and the pain dragged her into a painful oblivion.

Sam stared at the map. Isolated. Close to the town. But far enough away to avoid being heard. Isolated and liveable. Together he and Dean had already been able to check through a dozen places each with no results. He’d never come across a town that had so many empty buildings.

A thought crossed his mind. A couple. Two Vampires. He had been thinking about a nest of Vampires. Two of them wouldn’t want an entire empty and abandoned warehouse or an old wood mill. He turned eyes back to the map and looked for closer places that looked ideal for two people. Or at least passed for a quick stopping point. There was an old gas station on the edge of town that provided enough isolation to let victims scream until they died. They’d passed it on the way in. “I know where she is,” he lifted his eyes to Dean.

“Where?” He was already arming himself with a machete he’d freshly sharpened and a vial of dead man’s blood just in case.

“Gas station on the edge of town. At least I think they’re there.”

Dean just nodded, grabbed the keys to Charlotte's Pontiac she'd left on the side and moved to the door. “Let’s go Sammy.”

When they arrived the sun was just about up in the sky. Which gave them a better chance if they were here. Dean took the lead and Sam followed behind him, machete at the ready and a vial of dead man’s blood in his hands just in case.

The door they entered through had been boarded up but somebody had ripped the wood away from the bottom panel. They crouched through the doorway and frowned in the darkness. There was only a thin strip of light being let into the room and it gave enough of a glow to show shelves and even a basket or two strewn across the floor. The fridges at the back of the room were dark and covered in grime.

Sam noticed the fresh tracks through the dust and nodded his head to the back room. Dean nodded back and stopped at the cracked open doorway. He peered through, shook his head and gently pushed the door wider. The creak was loud and he shared a look with his younger brother. When he turned his head back to the doorway Thomas was there and he threw Dean across the room. He hit one of the fridges and glass shattered around him.

Sam moved towards Thomas with his machete held high but the Vampire moved, grabbed his arm and twisted him away from the back room. Evelyn appeared at the door with fresh blood around her mouth. “Hunters,” she hissed and she moved towards Sam whilst Thomas moved towards Dean. Dean climbed to his feet, machete in front of him and readied himself. Thomas was seven steps away. Six. Five. Then he stopped and sniffed the air. “Dead man’s blood?” A snarl caught his lips and Dean glanced to the floor. His vial had burst when he’d hit the floor.

“Shit,” he muttered and he lifted his head to see Thomas glaring. Then he was approaching him, fast. The hand holding the machete was knocked away, the blade falling to the ground, and a hand was wrapped around Dean’s throat. It lifted him up and off his feet.

Hands tried to pull the man’s hands away to no avail. Thomas sunk his head closer to Dean’s shoulder and he pinched his eyes shut. Then there was a shout. Both Thomas and Dean snapped their eyes round to see Evelyn stumbling. Sam dropped a needle to the ground and turned his eyes to Thomas.

Dean was dropped and Sam was rushed off his feet and into a boarded window within seconds. Dean grabbed his fallen weapon. Thomas was advancing on Sam fast and Dean started to move towards the pair when he remembered Evelyn. He changed direction and grabbed the woman’s head, blade to her neck. “Hey!”

Thomas spun and froze. “Let her go.”

“Make me.” Behind Thomas Sam got up, raised his blade and swung. Dean finished Evelyn off and they moved into the back room. “You okay?”

Sam nodded. “I’m fine.”

Abandoned tools and equipment were scattered across the floor and there was even a broken car that had been forgotten. They worked around this car and stopped. Charlotte was strung up, head limped forward and feet just off the ground. “Charlotte?” Dean said as he rushed towards her. He eyed the chains and Sam was next to him, using his height to his advantage.

“You got her?”

Dean placed his arms around her, “Yeah.” The chains fell and Dean eased Charlotte to the floor. He brushed hair out of her face and tried to stir her gently. “Charlotte?” He spotted the blood on her neck and the gash and winced.

“Took long enough,” she whispered.

Both Winchesters laughed and Dean nodded. “Yeah well Sammy had to stop for a bathroom break.” She groaned and Dean dragged her keys out of his pocket and handed them to Sam. Then he scooped Charlotte up into his arms, slung one of her hands over his shoulder and followed behind Sam.

It was only when they got outside that he could see the torn chunks in her shoulder properly. That was not going to heal nicely. He pushed other thoughts of blood loss out of his mind and focused on getting her into the car and back to the motel. He managed to get into the back seat with her slumped on his shoulder, Sam at the wheel. The drive back was quiet and tense with Dean trying to keep Charlotte awake. He’d worked a handkerchief onto her neck to try to encourage healing to start. “We should take her to a hospital,” Sam said.

“No,” Charlotte managed. “No hospitals. No.”

Dean sighed. “If we don’t you’re gonna have a nasty scar. It is not going to be pretty.”

“No,” she whispered weakly, shoving her head further against Dean’s shoulder. “No.”

“How much do you think they drank?” Sam asked.

He shook his head. “I don’t know.” He was thinking of a way to explain to the doctors and nurses what had happened. Tried to think of a way to explain the marks on her wrists, the bruises from the chains. In the end he settled with dog attack. “Sammy, take us to the hospital.” He turned his eyes down to Charlotte to see if she would respond but she was out of it. She could kill him later for all he cared.

They arrived and Dean carried her in whilst Sam called for a Doctor. Moments later, after telling them it was a dog attack, they were forced to wait outside. A nurse approached about medical bills and Sam took it off her hands, filling it in with a fake name and fake ID. Dean was pacing. His mind working. Bobby needed to be filled in on what was happening. How much blood had she lost? The dead Vampire bodies, if the authorities found them. He sighed and finally took a seat.

Sam took a seat next to him and Dean could feel the man wanting to say something. “What?”

“She’s going to be fine Dean.”

“Yeah.”

“It wasn’t your fault?”

“If I hadn’t been so content on-”

“I’m the one who told her to call you.”

Dean stopped anything else he was going to say to stare at his brother. “What? Why?”

Sam sighed now. “Because you two needed to sort whatever it is you have going on. Now.” Dean opened his mouth to say something when the doors opened and Charlotte was wheeled through into a cubicle. “Is she alright?”

The Doctor nodded with a smile. “She’ll be fine. There’ll be some scarring and unfortunately she may suffer with muscle operations in that arm in the long run. It’ll also take a long time to heal but, she should recover just fine and be out of here in no time.”

Both Winchesters thanked the man and moved to the cubicle. Sam stood closest to the bed, one hand in hers as he ran a thumb over the back of her hand. Dean took the chair on the other side of the bed and grabbed her other hand in his with a small squeze. Seconds passed and Sam lifted his head. “I’ll call Bobby,” Dean met his gaze. “Let him know she’s okay.”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “You do that.” Then he was alone with her.

 


	39. 2006 - August part 3

_Louisiana – Kenner_

Dean shook his jacket off once Sam was gone and draped it over the back of his seat. Sam had been back to say that he was going to go pack their stuff from the motel. No doubt that once Charlotte was awake they were going to move. So he was waiting for her to wake up and punch him or yell at him for taking her to the hospital. The woman did not like hospitals and he had no idea why.

Sam had been gone ten minutes when she stirred. There was a faint moan from her before she opened her eyes. It took her a few slurred moments of head turning before she found him. “Am I in a hospital?”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Yeah. Kinda had to.”

She turned her head away from him. “Ugh.” Then back. “Where are we?” She started to wake up a little more.

“Louisiana.”

Now she frowned. “What are _you_ doing here?”

He tightened his jaw. Sam’s words from before had done nothing but circle his mind and irritate him. After a moment he decided to hell with it. She deserved an answer. “You called.” And her face twisted into realisation. Dean opened his mouth to continue with the phone call, instead, what came out was, “Sam’s busy packing up the motel. Once you’re ready we can leave and head on home.”

“Sure,” Charlotte said.

Her eyes were fixed on the curtain and he sighed. “We need to talk.”

A glance in his direction. “You don’t need-”

He fixed his eyes on hers with determination. “I do.” His mouth dried out and he leaned forward in his seat, elbows on his knees and hands clasped. He ducked his head as her gaze intensified and he sighed. It took him a couple of seconds to gather his thoughts into a reasonable order. Then, he lifted his head and opened his mouth. “No matter how crappy we may be for each other, no matter how much we’d shout and fight and whatever else we’d do,” he paused, mouth still open as he thought. “I don’t care. You’re a pain in my ass. I get that. You’ll always be a pain in my ass.” There was a flicker of a smile across her face. “But I don’t care. I kind of like that. I don’t know,” he shrugged his shoulders.

“Dean-”

He held a hand up and cleared his throat. He wanted to finish what he was going to say before he chickened out. Before he stopped talking and just let it be. “You know I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you right? Or Sammy? But, I couldn’t. ‘Cause I-” he clamped his mouth shut. _Did he?_ Charlotte simply looked at him with blue eyes that screamed for him to finish what he was going to say. “I love you.” He took a moment to grit his teeth and let the words sink in. “I said it. But,” he paused, mind working to keep up with his mouth, “even if we die somewhere down the line in five years’ time, I don’t care.” And he fixed his eyes on hers with such certainty he could almost see the panic in her face. “’Cause I do want there to be an us. I do.”

Silence. More silence and he frowned now. Her mouth was working, trying to form words and he could feel his heart growing erratic. She was going to drive him crazy just waiting to talk to him. “I love you too,” she managed before she clamped her mouth shut. “I hate you,” there was a faint smile to her face whilst Dean couldn’t help the smirk to his mouth. A single laugh escaped her. “But I- I do too.”

The smirk remained and he gave several tiny nods. “Well,” he said, “fancy that.”

She laughed. “Shut up.”

Dean grinned. Then he swallowed around the awkwardness that was growing as he frowned at his hands. “So,” he started and he lifted his eyes to meet her curious ones, “where do we go from here?”

Charlotte’s mouth slipped open and he could see her trying to form thoughts. Whatever had been about to leave her mouth was abandoned as Sam entered. “Hey,” he said with a wide smile. “How you feeling?”

“Like someone took a bite out of me? Can we leave now?”

Sam gave a laugh at that. “Yeah, erm,” he lifted a bag up, “I brought you a change of clothes.”

“Oh thank God,” she shuffled in her seat and pushed back the cover. “Give.” Sam threw the bag onto the bed and she looked inside. A grin spread across her features and she moved to get off the bed. “Thank you Sam, now can you two leave so I can change?”

“Yeah, sure,” the brothers said and they pulled the curtain across. Outside they passed each other a glance. “So,” Sam said. Dean looked up at him. “You two seemed like you were in the middle of something.”

“Shut up,” Dean said and he trifled through his pockets for the keys to Bobby’s car. “Do me a favour and go grab Bobby’s car will you?”

Sam pulled a face. “You do it.”

“Come on man.”

“Do it yourself Dean,” Charlotte’s voice drifted through the curtain.

“You heard her,” Sam said with a smirk. “Do it yourself.”

He made several attempts to try to argue but in the end he just grumbled and made the brisk walk across town to the car park and into Bobby’s too uncared for car for his liking and started the engine. When he pulled up to the hospital Charlotte was ambling out with the bag over her left shoulder, her good one, with Sam behind her. He had one hand out ready to catch her and Dean could see her glaring and mumbling threats at his little brother. It made him smile. He watched as she passed a comment to Sam, threw her bag into the back seat of her Pontiac and climbed in after it, stretching herself across it whilst Sam took the driver's seat.

Soon they were on the highways and on their way back to South Dakota. They stopped twice for food and bathroom breaks and Charlotte took the keys off of Sam at the second stop. “Try to keep up,” she yelled to Dean as she climbed in, started the engine and left.

When he made it to Bobby’s Sam and Charlotte were already inside, both toting a beer with another waiting for Dean. He handed the keys back to Bobby with a glare and shook his head. “Whatever,” he said as he took his beer and sipped.

Dean took his beer outside and continued working on his car. As the hours passed and the sun dipped behind the hills Charlotte managed to find her way outside. She leaned against the work bench as he worked on the back wheels. “How you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

He lifted his eyes over his body and underneath the edges of the car. “I’m fine.” Then he was back to the car. He continued to work in silence and pulled himself up from out of the car after a while. He moved to the work bench and eyed Charlotte with a simple look before he picked up another tool. “You gonna stand there all day or you gonna help?”

“Now you want my help?”

He shrugged and held out a wrench to her. “If you’re offering.”

There was a smirk to his mouth and he held her gaze. After a moment she flicked her eyes to the wrench and back to his face. Then she took it. There was a smirk on her mouth and he eyed it. His lips thinned out and he gritted his teeth, temptation rising. Then she was shoving the wrench into his chest. “I’m tired. You have fun.”

He reached out for her good arm and gently tugged her back. He turned her to face him with a grin, cupped her cheek and pulled her close for a long and slow kiss, his other hand keeping a hold of her waist. When they parted he looked at her with a soft expression and whispered, “You gonna tell me why you hate hospitals so much?”

She raised her brows for a moment before she shrugged, her fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt. “Reminds me too much of the time I lost my mom.” She shrugged again and he nodded his head once before he kissed quickly and let her go.

She let her hand trail down his arm until their fingers were the last thing to touch and he narrowed his eyes with a slight smirk at the look she threw over her shoulder at him. He swore there was something in the way she walked slowly away from him but he shook his head with a grin and waited until she'd left, his eyes fixed on her ass, before he turned back to focus on his car.  

The sun sunk out of view and the moon bounced off the metal of the car before he realised what time it was and he decided to call it a night then. When he got inside there was nobody in sight and he locked the back door. He wiped his hands down and made his way up the stairs and into Charlotte’s room. It was dark and she was already sleeping away if the light breathing was anything to go by. He kicked his shoes off, shed his jeans and pulled the cover back to slip into bed behind her. After he wrapped one arm around her waist he pulled her tight against his chest and let his nose nuzzle the nape of her neck.

She made a small noise and wriggled against him with a smile and he smiled, kissed the back of her neck and shuffled in closer.

 


	40. 2006 - November

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

Charlotte sighed as she jumped out of the tow truck. Since she’d gotten back from Louisiana Bobby had done nothing but have her work on towing cars in and working on research or the broken vehicles. But she had started to grow tired with him, Sam and Dean all asking how her shoulder was doing and making sure she wasn’t doing anything too extraneous. That morning she’d bit at Sam with a growl and he’d backed off like she’d just kicked his dog.

Almost two months of nothing but staying in the state working on broken down cars surrounded by men was driving her crazy. Again.

The guy who’d broken down was with his girlfriend and they asked how long it would take and how much. With her hands in the engine and her eyes working the system through her mind she nodded to herself. “Good news is I don’t have to tow you in. Better news is I can have this fixed within the hour.” She lifted her eyes to the couple with a smile. “Just a couple of lines that have come loose.”

She moved back to the truck and pulled out the toolbox from the back of the truck. Whilst she worked on the engine her thoughts were going back to Bobby’s house and what she had to face when she got back. The past few weeks her and Dean had been… strange with each other. She couldn’t think of another way to put it, but they danced around each other a lot more now than they did do before she’d landed in the hospital.

Now they just looked, smiled, touched, played and ended it there. But there was something about it that was off. She couldn’t put her finger on it but the sex, was not the same. Something had changed and it was making her skin itch.

With a frown she ignored the vibrating in her pocket and finished up on the car. The hood was pushed back down and she pulled her phone out to see Jo’s name across the screen. The girl could wait. A smile was forced onto her face and she turned to the couple in front of her. “Done. You are ready to roll onto the next town. That should hold for several thousand miles.”

“Thank you,” the girlfriend said.

“How much is that?” Her phone vibrated again. She reeled off a number, glanced at Dean’s name across the screen with a phone and turned her eyes back to the guy. “Thank you again,” he said before he climbed behind the wheel and started the engine.

They waved as they left and Charlotte waited until they were gone before she sighed. Jo was calling again. “What?” she asked the plastic in her hand.

“Dean is hot.”

She stopped in her tracks, one hand on the handle of the truck and her eyes fixed on the road. “What?”

There was a smile in the younger woman’s voice. “He’s hot. Is he still free game?”

Was he? Was _she_? They’d never spoken about in the months since they’d said those three words, hadn't brought the matter up. Not to mention that they still talked to Cassie and Alex. Somehow the issue of telling the pair about the other person hadn’t come up. She bit her lip and cleared her throat as she focused on the floor. “Jo- I-” If she said yes she was admitting that her and Dean were more than a thing, and that meant settling down. That thought scared her. Settle down. There was too much going on in the world and as much as she liked Dean, she was afraid. “Yeah,” she managed to blurt out, something pinching in her throat, “free game.” There was a hollowness to her stomach as she said those words but she wasn't ready for the long term plans, not yet. Besides, this kind of game wasn't anything new. “Knock yourself out.”

“And Sam’s hot too.”

Charlotte chuckled. “You have fun. Now I’m gonna get back to fixing cars and researching books and stuff.”

“I’ll let you know how it goes, but you should get your ass down here. Mum’s missing you.”

Charlotte nodded. “Trust me, that’s the plan. I’ll speak to you soon. Have fun.” They hung up and Charlotte had gotten down the road a hundred yards before her phone rang again. Dean this time. “Yeah?”

“Free game huh?”

She didn’t miss the smirk in his words. “You complaining?”

“I didn’t know I was for sharing.”

One side of her her mouth twitched up into a tiny smile and she tightened her hold on the steering wheel. “Well when we're still with Cassie and Alex how can I _not_ share you?”

She felt bad for saying it and she could hear the awkward silence on the other end of the line. “Guess your right,” Dean said after a while.

“Either way, you get the girls, I get the guys, we get each other. I’m not gonna complain. Are you?”

There was a pause before he answered. “I guess not.” Then another pause. “You sure you okay with that?”

“Go.”

“How’d you two know each other anyway?”

“Best friends.”

“Huh.”

“Just, get whatever dirty lesbian thoughts are out of your mind.”

Dean chuckled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She rolled her eyes and pulled up to Bobby’s house. “Oh, we borrowed your car.”

“What?” Any humour was gone and she glared at the woodwork of the house. “Dean.” She stretched.

“See you,” and he hung up.

“Dean!” Oh she was pissed now. She climbed out of the truck, slammed the door shut and stormed into the house. “You didn’t stop them?”

Bobby just looked at her. “Stop who from what?”

“Winchester’s. My car.”

Bobby sighed. “I told them to take one of mine.”

She took a moment to calm herself. So it was Dean’s doing. She was going to strangle him. Through the anger she managed to ask the question, “What are they doing in Nebraska?”

Bobby shrugged and grabbed a beer from the fridge. She exchanged it for the money she’d made from the repair. “John had a message from Ellen on there. They went to find out what it was about.”

“Right.” She took a sip and shoved one hand into her pocket. There was a knowing awkward look passing between them and Bobby finally gave in and asked her what. “Jo said I should go there. You know, catch up. And they’re women.”

“So?”

She gave him a look. “In case you hadn’t noticed I’ve been surrounded by testosterone for the past two months. I need a break.”

“Fine,” he nodded. “Go. How’s your shoulder doing?”

She rolled her eyes and took another sip of the beer. “It’s fine. Please don’t ask again.”

He held his hands up. “Alright, just worried is all.”

A smile erupted and she shook her head. She found out which car Bobby had lent to the brothers and sighed. “Please tell me there’s something else I can drive,” she muttered as she snuck a look around the rest of the salvage yard. There wasn’t anything. She sighed, finished her beer and decided to try to quickly get another car in working condition by the morning.

Night rolled around a lot faster than she wanted and she was being kicked to bed by Bobby. By the time morning came around she was already up and continued to work on it. By the time the sun was beginning to set it was done. She took a step back from the beaten down car and smiled. Bobby stood next to her and shook his head. “Still looks like a hunk of junk.”

She tilted her head to him and then to the van he’d originally given her. “At least it _sounds_ better than that.”

Bobby snorted and shook his head. “Whatever. Be careful on the roads alright?”

Charlotte nodded as she disappeared to grab the bag she’d already packed. “I will and I’ll call you.” She kissed his cheek and pulled the keys into her hands. “See you tomorrow.” And she climbed into the car, threw her bag in the back and started for the Roadhouse. When she arrived it was well into the night and the lights were still on and she could see a number of cars lined up outside. She parked up and moved inside. Jo collared her straight away and pulled her to the bar. “Yes Jo?” She dumped her at the bar and Ellen passed the girls a glance. Jo simply looked at her. “What?”

Jo narrowed her eyes at her. “I thought you said Dean was fair game.”

Now Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “He is.”

“Funny, I didn’t see him doing a whole lot of flirting and I wasn’t holding back.”

Now she frowned. She had to admit Jo was his type. So why would he not…. A thought occurred. Sure it had been two months since the boys had lost their Dad but Dean had done little on the subject of talking about it. Now and again he’d mentioned it wasn’t fair and how it shouldn’t be right. She knew he was still hung up about it. At least to some degree. “Wrong time wrong place?”

It took her a moment to take it in. “Dad.”

“Dad.”

“Right.”

“So,” Ellen said. “How’s everything with Bobby?”

Charlotte nodded. “He’s fine. Says hi, Still grouchy without the supply of beer in his fridge or the Jim Bean on the side. But you know, he’s fine.”

Ellen grinned. “You tell that cranky ass that he owes me still.”

“Or you could tell him yourself.” She watched Ellen begin to glare and calmed her own expression. “Or I’ll tell him. What even happened between you two anyway?”

Now Jo was looking at her mother. “Nothing that concerns you two.”

“Eww,” Charlotte said. Ellen used the rag against the side of her head with a sharp thwack. “Ow!”

“Think that again I’ll wring your neck myself.”

When the older woman moved away Charlotte turned to Jo. “I am officially scared of your Mum now.”

Jo only laughed. “Happens to everyone eventually.”

“How does she do it?”

“How’s your shoulder anyway?”

Charlotte stopped any smiles. “What?”

Jo just gave her a look. “I heard about the vampire attack. You got bit.” Charlotte sighed. “Can I see it?”

“I think I’m going to go bed.”

“Oh come on. Please?” Charlotte sighed and threw back the shoulder of her jacket. With another sigh she pulled down on the shoulder of her shirt and revealed the scarring that was still healing. “Ouch. Jesus. And they sucked blood?”

“Yes. Can I go to bed now?” Jo nodded with a grin. “Hey Ellen, I’m cool to crash right?” Ellen nodded and Charlotte moved herself up the stairs to the spare room. She slept well and when she came down in the morning it was quiet, save for the two women and the three guys in the room. Nobody noticed her and she fixed a glare on Dean. With determination she took the key for the car she used out of her pocket, stepped up to the older brother and shoved a hand into the pocket on his leather jacket. “Take my car again,” she found the key, grabbed it and showed it him. “I’ll kill you.” And she grabbed his hand and put the other keys into it.

“O- kay,” he muttered and he passed a look to the others.

Charlotte seated herself at the other end of the bar and looked over Ash’s shoulder. “You bitching still?” he said.

The woman turned her eyes with a glare towards his face and nudged him with her elbow. “Shut up Ash.”

“How you doing?” Sam asked.

“I’m fine, what are you looking into?”

“Demon tracking,” Ash said.

“Right,” Charlotte.

Dean appeared on her other side. “Me and Sammy are gonna be heading back soon.”

She shrugged. “I’m gonna be staying for a bit.”

“Right.”

“See you later, or tomorrow.”

“Sure,” he patted the bar top and turned to the door. “Catch you guys later,” and the brothers left.

Charlotte turned to Ellen, who was looking at her. So was Jo. And Ash. “What was that?” the guy asked.

“What?”

“Seriously, what was that?” Jo asked.

“You know what,” Charlotte said as she stood. “If I can’t just hang out with my best friend,” she eyed Jo. “Without the conversation revolving to me in some way, then I’ll just leave. Can we not, you know, just talk about what you three have been doing?”

“Same old same old,” Jo said.

“You girlies chat,” Ash said. “I’ve got some business of my own to tackle.”

As the hours ticked by and the 'girlies' talked, Charlotte's phone buzzed. Dean. She excused herself away from Ellen and Jo with a frown and answered her phone with a small, “Dean?”

Silence. She repeated his name and waited. “I'm not okay.” The tremble in his voice had her biting her bottom lip. “I-” She closed her eyes and rubbed the back of her eyelids with her fingers. This was _that_ moment. “Charlotte, just-”

“I'm on my way,” she interrupted and waited until Dean gave her confirmation that he'd heard before she shut her phone. She turned to the Harvelle's in the room, her mouth open but they only nodded her on and she was out of the door and in her car in under a minute. Four hours later, with the moon throwing a light glow over everything, she pulled up to Bobby's, shut the engine off and traipsed to the back. Dean wasn't there. She stepped inside, eyed Sam on the couch and tip toed upstairs to her room. Inside, she found him sat on the edge of her bed, elbows on his knees and hands clasped against his mouth. He simply looked up at her when she stepped in and she closed the door before she whispered, “Dean.” Seconds later and she was pulling him up to look over his face.

Never. Never had she seen him looking so....upset, broken, lost. Ever. She couldn't help the water that started in the corners of her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck. His arms were around her in an instant and she held him as she felt him squeeze her as his body shook. She felt his tears down her cheeks as he held on tighter and she kissed his cheek. “Dean,” she whispered and she closed her eyes.

“It's not fair,” he managed and she simply held him as he shook with silent tears. 


	41. 2006 - December

_Missouri – Glenaire_

Charlotte eyed the cemetery with curious eyes. Many graves had been disturbed and badly put back into place. Bodies had been dragged out and parts of them had been found not too far away. Ghouls. Messy ones at that. Pieces had been found in all directions but she couldn’t make heads or tail if they reconnected in one direction or the other.

So here she was. Staking out a cemetery at two in the morning. The cold was already creeping in and the heating system in her car was having a hard time battling the chills. Even her fingers were starting to grow numb.

Her phone rang, breaking the silence and she eyed the caller to see Dean’s name scrawled across the screen. “Yeah?”

“What’s up with you?”

“Ghouls who take to robbing bodies at night. It’s freezing and I’m staking out a cemetery.”

“Right.”

“What did you want?”

Her eyes were fixed on the cemetery, trying to make out one shadow from the other. “We took a visit to Mom’s grave.” Her head turned to stare blindly out of the wind shield. “I mean, Sam wanted to. I tagged along.”

 _Of course_. “Okay.”

“But I found unholy ground and Sam thinks I’m making a case up.”

She pinched her eyes shut, gritted her teeth and thought about her next words. Worst case scenario he’d tell her to go to hell. Maybe. “Are you?”

“What?”

Charlotte sighed. “I know you don’t like talking about your parents. Hell I tried to get you to talk about your Dad. Look how well that turned out.” She gave it a second before she continued. “Look, Dean, I’m just saying I know you have…” _Issues? Problems?_ “...a tough time when it comes to such personal matters. Are you sure it was unholy ground and not just a patch of dead grass?"

She spotted movement and sat up a little straighter, head snapping back to the cemetery. “In a perfect circle? And nothing was growing there either.”

She bit the inside of her bottom lip. There. Movement. “Okay, so dig a little deeper. Find out why it might be dead ground. I got to go.” She hung up, shoved her phone into pocket and grabbed the shotgun and machete that sat on the passenger seat. Silently she opened, stepped out and closed the door to her car. Through the dark she slinked, feet treading lightly with the shotgun weighted in her hands. The machete was shoved into the belt of her jeans. All the while her eyes were focused on the moving shadows.

She’d gotten fifteen metres into the cemetery and the Ghouls were no more than twenty metres in front of her when her phone started again. Her face dropped and she groaned. “Son of a-”

Something tackled her to the ground, took a swipe to her head and another to the other side. The shotgun was gone somewhere and her head was beginning to kill. There was a third swipe and a biting to her shoulder. She gave a groan and grabbed the head of the Ghoul, pulled it away and glared at it. “Not the damn shoulder!” With a lot of effort she managed to throw the Ghoul to one side, roll over and stand up, pulling the machete with her.

Silence. Eerie, creepy silence.

Her phone rang again.

This time she was ready when she heard the fast and heavy footsteps behind her. She twisted her body and swung, catching the creature in the gut. It stopped and doubled over. She yanked on the machete, brought it up and back down across the creature’s neck with one fluid swing. It collapsed on the floor, head rolling away and she stood, chest panting.

Blood started to dry across her head and cheeks, her shoulder was killing her. Again. “Why does everything have to bite?”

She gave the leg of the Ghoul a nudge with her foot, turned to leave and felt herself get thrown off her feet once more. There was a growl and this time the Ghoul glared down at her. “You killed my son.”

Charlotte managed to get her hands on his arms, trying to pull him off her in vain. “Yeah well,” it growled, “I’m going to kill you too.” And it laughed. She threw a punch that landed on its jaw and it only snarled down at her. As it moved to take a chunk out of her neck she managed to shove its head to the side, bring her forearm up underneath its chin and turn its mouth away from her. She used her other hand to continue to push its face away from her and it eventually managed to pull one hand away from her to pull one of her hands away from him.

She worked a knee underneath its body, pushed and it fell backwards. Her hands scrambled to pull her to her feet. By the time she was up the Ghoul was coming back at her. She ducked, twisted, rolled and picked up the fallen machete, turned and took a swing. The Ghoul dodged it, punched her square in the face and tried to pull the weapon from her hands.

  
She pulled back on it, kicked a foot into his stomach and swung the weapon once more. It cut upwards and sent the head flying back whilst the body collapsed where it stood. For several moments she just stood there, trying to control her breathing.

Everything ached.

Her phone went again and she glared at the name. _Bobby_. “Yeah Bobby?”

“I was just checking in.”

“Yeah?” She eyed the bodies around her, found her shotgun winking under the moonlight and scooped it back up. “I thought I was going to call you?”

“It’s my job to make sure you’re still alive and kicking.”

“Well I am,” she started back towards the entrance, “when people don’t call me in the middle of a hunt.”

“Yeah? Next time I won’t tell you that Alex dropped by. Wants to talk to you. Now, what were you saying about trying it out with him?”

She froze. Alex. Yeah. One thing she’d been meaning to do for months. Dean had been delaying in calling Cassie. She knew that. He tried to hide it but after a few weeks she figured it out. And she was certain he knew she hadn’t finished it with Alex. It just hadn't come up.

She sighed. “I’m on my way back.”

“Clean?”

“Pit stop. Tell him to come back tomorrow.”

“I did. You’ve got time. How bad you hurt?”

“Few cuts and bruises nothing more.”

“See you soon kid.”

“Yeah,” and she hung up. Another sigh had her sagging against her car with a groan. She just wanted to curl up and sleep for the next week. After several seconds she dragged herself in her car, back to her motel and took the world’s quickest shower. Her bags were packed within minutes and she was out of the door and handing in the key within five.

It took a lot of mental restraint to not fall asleep at the wheel and when she made it back to Bobby’s, the edges of the sun kissing the horizon, she collapsed onto the couch into sleep.

When Bobby shook her leg at eleven it felt too early to even consider waking up. “Five more minutes,” and she curled her face into the crook of her arm.

“How about now.”

“Ugh,” she groaned and stretched, sat up and rubbed her face. “Ow.” She forgot about the Ghouls. The pain reminded her. “Dammit,” she muttered.

“Tell me," Bobby stopped in front of her with a cold bottle of beer. She placed it against the side of her face, “how are you going to explain that?” He gestured to her face.

She whimpered and stood. “I don’t know. I- I’ll think of something.”

There was the sound of tyres of dirt and Bobby eyed the window. “Well think fast.”

She groaned. _Think Dixon think. Bruises. Swelling. A fight? Where? With who? Meeting an old friend? They fought?_ Her face screwed itself up with knowledge that it was a terrible lie. The door knocked. Bobby waved her towards it. She sighed and pulled herself up, traipsed towards it and hesitated. Took a deep breath and pulled it open. “Alex,” she said with the biggest smile she could muster. “Hey.”

His face was not smiling. “What the hell happened to your face?”

“I got into a fight. With one of my friends. Ex-friends now.” She could feel Bobby rolling his eyes with a shake of his head. “I started it but, I mean, you should see their face.” And she did her best to grin.

“Right.”

“You wanted to talk?”

That seemed to pull his eyes away from the bruising she could feel growing around her eyes. “Yeah, I’m going to see my family in North Dakota for the holidays. They suggested that I bring you along but… it’s up to you. I don’t want you to feel like I’m pushing anything on you.”

Her stomach dropped. “I would love to Alex, I really would,” her chest ached painfully as the words tumbled from her mouth, “but me and Bobby, we have a tradition and I’ve been meaning to take a visit to Wyoming. My erm,” she swallowed, “parents.”

He nodded with understanding. A sympathetic smile wrote itself across his features. That had been one thing she was honest about, her folks were dead and Bobby was a surrogate Dad. “Of course. Don’t worry about it.” He stepped closer and placed a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll call you okay?”

“Yeah, you have fun.”

“You too.”

He left and she sighed with relief as she closed the door. When she turned around Bobby stood there, one brow cocked. “What?”

“How in the hell did you get away with that bull?”

She shrugged. “I have no idea.”

“Isn’t your Mother buried in Montana not Wyoming?”

She thought it over. It had been years since she’d been to her ‘home’ state. Years since she’d had to think about it. “No?” Her mind dug and dug, trying to pull up the information. “No, it’s, it’s Wyoming. I’m sure.”

There was a frown across her features and Bobby was eyeing her up. “You sure kid? I could’ve sworn your Dad mentioned Montana.” She stroked a hand over her face and he held his hands up. “Alright, look, just, get yourself to bed alright?”

“Yeah,” she passed the bottle of beer back to Bobby and carried herself up the stairs. Once in her room she kicked her shoes off, dropped her jacket and fell onto the old mattress. Her mind worked. Montana. Wyoming. Montana. Wyoming. She didn’t get it wrong did she? Worry started to fill her. She didn’t forget where she was born or where her mother was buried. She didn’t.

But did she?

It _had_ been years. She tried to recall memories of Montana, of anything other than the state of Wyoming but nothing was coming forth. As far as she could remember she’d never lived in Montana. Had she?

There was an ache in her chest and she chewed on her bottom lip with a deep frown as she rubbed a hand over her ribs. She rolled over and stared at the ceiling. Water stung the corners of her eyes out of fear and panic. Nobody forgets where they were born or where their parents are buried. Bobby must’ve had it wrong.

In the back of her mind was a niggling feeling that something was missing. Bobby had infinite knowledge compared to anybody she knew. He’d been around for a lot longer then she’d like to think. He’d talked to her Dad about things like that a lot more than he did her. But something was missing. Montana.

The name bounced inside her mind, trying to pull up one memory, one moment from that state. Nothing. And the more she tried to drag a memory up the more she forgot what her mother looked like, what her voice sounded like or what she even smelt of.

Yet her first and earliest memory of Wyoming was starting kindergarten at five. Before that? Nothing. The panic hit her full force and she swung her legs over the side of her bed. Surely there should be one memory, one little scrap of voices, faces, feelings, emotions. Something. Anything.

Nothing.

There was nothing before Kindergarten and the panic started to scare her.

 


	42. 2007 - January

_Montana – Shelby_

She stared at the slab of granite in the ground. _Helen Dixon. Beloved Mother, Wife, Daughter and Sister._ There was a painful itching at the back of her throat. Montana. Not Wyoming. Just as Bobby had said. Blue eyes lifted to observe the cemetery. Her gut wrenched and her skin tingled. Something was wrong about this. It didn’t sit right. Add to that the feeling that somebody was watching her and she was ready to turn and run.

Her phone rang.

Fingers gripped the plastic vibrating device and looked at the name. _Jo_. She screened the call and let her eyes fall back to the tombstone. Her mother. She was struggling to pull up memories of the woman. What she could remember was a series of rhymes she used to sing to lull to sleep. The bedtime stories and a vague scent of lavender. Day or night. Sun or rain. Lavender.

A smile crept onto her features. Somewhere else her Dad’s ashes swirled in the dusts of the Earth. A hunter’s funeral. “I know,” she started, her voice hoarse. Too many awkward lumps had been swallowed and left her mouth too dry. Charlotte cleared her throat and started again. “I know. I should, I should talk to you more.” She bit her tongue and ducked her head. “I dunno.” Eyes flicked to the spot of green earth by the side of the grave.

The feeling of being watched came over her once more. She lifted her head and twisted it across the entire grounds. Nothing and nobody. She was alone.

But she couldn’t shake it.

With a sigh she turned back to the grave. “Hopefully you’re up there, if there is an up there and you know, Dad’s with you.” A chill swept through her and she turned her eyes about the cemetery once more. What the hell was creeping her out? She cleared her throat as her eyes swung slowly back to the earth in front of her. “I’m fine. I guess. Considering everything,” she sighed.

Her phone rang again. _Ellen_. She sighed and stepped away from the sight with a small apology. “Hey Ellen. What’s up?”

“Have you been talking to Jo about hunting again?”

She frowned. “Ellen, you know I tell her not to. Your choice.”

“Damn Winchesters.”

“What’s going on?”

“The Winchesters came in and I gave them a job. Jo’s gone out and I swear Dean lied to me about her.”

Her frown was increasing. “So Jo’s with Sam and Dean? On a hunt?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll give them a call alright?”

“Don’t you worry about it. I’m going straight over there right now.”

She pinched her eyes shut. If the boys came out of this intact she would be surprised. “Alright, look I’ll give Jo a call too. See you.” She sighed when she hung up and dialled Dean’s number. “Give the phone to Jo and don’t you tell me she isn’t there."

He didn’t say anything and there was a rustle of hushed voices over the line before Jo snapped, “What?”

“You’re on a hunt.”

“So?”

“So? Your mum’s on a flight out there.”

“What?”

“Yeah well, that’s what happens when you argue with Ellen. Put Dean back on will you.”

She heard the sound of whispered voices and the phone being passed between hands before Dean said, “Yeah?”

Charlotte closed her eyes. Jo on a hunt. She thought of the woman like a little sister and a best friend. The girl had a chance to have a normal life, to stay away from the crap that hunting threw at them. “Keep her safe. Dean please,” she opened her eyes and they landed on her mother’s grave. “Make sure she comes back.”

“I will do. Where are you anyway? We called at Bobby’s and you weren’t there.”

She nodded and tightened her grip on her phone. Eyes watching her. The feeling was back. “Montana on some personal business.”

“Personal business?"

“Yeah,” she stuffed her free hand into her pocket, “personal.”

There was a moment where she could hear his mind working. “Does personal have a name?”

The smirk that started couldn’t be helped. “Yeah. She’s called Tracy and she’s a six foot blonde with a pair that’ll make you jealous. Bye Dean,” and she hung up, eyed the grave and sighed. Her phone buzzed and she eyed the text message the older Winchester had just sent her. _Take Pictures._ A laugh escaped her and she shoved her phone into her pocket. “I should get going,” she said to the piece of land. “I’ll erm, I’ll come back. I promise.” When she turned she stopped short, two inches away from running into a guy. “Sorry,” she said and she looked up.

The guy wore a blue shirt, the sleeves pulled up to his elbows and folded over. Brown hair was kept clean and not too short and his blue eyes seemed to scream old. He stepped back, hands up, “No it’s erm, it’s my fault.” There was a tight smile to his lips and Charlotte eyed him carefully before she nodded.

“Right, sure,” Charlotte said. She wanted to move, to get out of the cemetery. But there was something about him. Something… odd. “Do I know you?”

He narrowed his eyes and turned his head to one side. “No, I, I don’t think so. I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Right.” Something itched at her. “Excuse me,” she muttered and she started past him. Three steps later and she looked over her shoulder. The guy was stood in front of her mother’s grave. “What the-” she muttered to herself before she took a step back. He turned and simply rose his brows. “How did you know her?” He stared at her for a moment, making her shrink slightly and she cleared her throat, “If you don't mind.”

“I’m a friend of the family. Did you know her?”

She frowned deeper. “Yeah. My mother. Who are you?”

“Oh,” he offered a friendly smile, “Matthew. Hi,” he offered his hand and she simply looked at it for several seconds before she took it. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Yeah.”

He nodded and then frowned in a casual curious way. “Charlotte right? I remember Helen talking about you.”

“Funny,” she said, “I don’t remember a Matthew.”

“Yeah,” he shoved hands into his pockets, “I kind of lost contact unfortunately. Every year I come by and I pay my respects. She was a lovely woman.”

Charlotte nodded and looked past him to the slab of granite. “Thanks.” Her mind started working. Here was a guy who knew her mother, knew what she was like, what she did. Her eyes finally found him and she gritted her teeth. No. She didn’t want anything from him. Did she? “Erm,” she gave a tiny half laugh, “this may sound weird but would you mind, telling me about her?”

Matthew nodded. “Sure. What would you like to know?”

An hour of talking later and Charlotte had learnt that her mother sung beautifully. She was a teacher at a primary school who cared a lot for the children. Her favourite place in the world was the local park in Shelby. It was where her dad had asked her mother out. They used to take regular walks every now and again and have picnics underneath the same cluster of trees near to the lake. She had a fear of flying and loved dogs way too much. Before Charlotte had been born Helen had taken in a stray retriever that had been hit by a car. But Peter was allergic to it, so they had had to get rid of it.

There was more. So much more but Charlotte simply nodded her head. “Thanks.”

“Hey,” he said and she turned back to face him, “if you ever want to talk again, I’ll be here.”

“Yeah,” she nodded her head with a tight lipped smile. Tears wanted to be free and she was doing a dammed job to keep them there. “Thanks again Matthew. I appreciate it.”

“No problem.” And he just walked off in the opposite direction.

It was finally when she got into her car that she let the tears fall and her body to ache. Nobody had told her so much before and it hurt her to know, hurt her to put something to a name. For several minutes her fingers held on tight to the steering wheel as she let the flood overtake her body. Her head rested on the wheel and she remained like that until her eyes were red and stung from too many tears leaving her.

“Oh god,” she muttered as she sat up. She wiped her hands at her face, wiped the traces of water away and pulled away. In the rear view mirror she watched the cemetery shrink and she nodded to it. “See you next year mum.”

 


	43. 2007 - January part 2

_S_ _outh Dakota – Sioux Falls_

"I'm back!"

"How'd it go?"

Sam. Not who she was expecting. "Hey Sam." Charlotte shook off her coat and nodded her head with a slight frown. "How'd what go?"

"Bobby let it slip." She stared at him and Sam nodded his head to the side, "About your Mother."

"Oh. Well, you know, it was quiet, strange, weird, creepy, erm."

"Right," Sam caught the drift she was pitching. She'd rather not talk about her talking to her mother's grave. "Sorry," he held a hand up, "your business."

She rolled her eyes at that last point and took a beer from the fridge. "Whatever. You need me I'll be outside."

"Are you okay?"

She stopped at the back door and turned. Her mind was still working over what she'd learnt, over Matthew and how he'd spoken about her mother. There was something off in the way he spoke _about_ her not quite _of_ her. The longer the drive had taken the more time she had to think about how he talked in awful detail about her mother, with a too fond smile that made her wary of him, of how she liked to dance as she cooked, about how she loved to hum “I Met Him On A Sunday” as she took care of Charlotte. Something was just off about the other specific details he talked about, like the warm honey colour of her eyes and how her favourite sea green dress looked best on her.

A big grin was plastered across her face. "I'm fine," and she turned, let the grin fall and stepped out into the cold winter air. Working on cars let her think, let her mind wander and focus on the small details whilst keeping her hands busy. At the moment there sat a half-finished engine in the hood of an old 1997 Lincoln Town Car. It was something to keep her busy.

She let thoughts circle her mind. Matthew. Matthew. Matthew. There was something niggling the corners of her mind. But what? She couldn't figure it out. He seemed familiar yet he wasn't and it was creepy the way he'd spoken so fondly of her mother. "Matthew, Matthew, Matthew," she scratched her brain trying to find a memory, anything linked to that name.

"Who's Matthew?"

She cursed as she bumped her head on the propped open hood. Dean stood to the side, one brow cocked and a lopsided smirk across his face, his hands dug into his pockets. "A guy."

"You meet him in the cemetery?"

Charlotte rolled her eyes and turned away to grab a new tool. "He knew my Mum alright?" She turned and refused to look at him. "I thought he looked familiar so I was trying to figure out where I'd seen him before." The force she put into the tool on the engine was too loud and she could feel Dean look at the source. One thing she hated at times was having to explain herself.

"Okay. What'd you learn?"

"That she was a lovely person who everybody really liked!" She turned and faced him. Dean was leaning away from her, his face screwed up into something she couldn't read. Right now she wished she'd never left the state. Things would've been a whole lot easier if she'd never gone and her brain wouldn't be trying to sort out the mess circling her mind.

After three seconds she turned, slammed down the tool, polished off the beer and moved back into the house. The bottle was dropped into the bin and she grabbed her keys. Today was going to be one of those days where she needed her space, her time, just some peace away from everybody and everything. Sam only frowned his eyes at her and she refused to look further as she yanked her jacket off the hook and left.

Sam turned to the window and watched as her car peeled away. "What?" Seconds later his brother joined him in staring out of the window and he turned to Dean and said, "What did you do?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders and held his hands up. "I didn't do anything! She started shouting at me!"

"Why?"

Dean stared at his brother with an upturned face. "You think this is my fault?"

"Well you're the one who pisses her off the most."

"I just asked her about her trip! That was it! Next thing I know she's yelling at me like it's my fault and then she storms into here and off." He took a breath and turned his eyes away from his brother. "She say where she was going?"

"No. Just left."

"Great."

"Yeah, well you can tell Bobby."

"I've got a better idea," he pulled his keys out of his pocket, "I follow her."

Sam didn't get a chance to say anything as Dean followed suite out the door, into his Impala and peeled away. He sighed and ground his teeth together with his hands on his hips. A set of feet on the stairs had him turning to see Bobby looking about in confusion. "The hell's with all the yelling? And where is everyone?"

Sam was going to kill his brother.

Three hours later and Charlotte had her hands behind her head and her eyes on the ceiling. She was pissed at herself. Angry and pissed. The more she'd thought about it the more she struggled to remember anything that Matthew had told her. Nothing stuck and no memory seemed to stir in her mind. There was a large gap in her memory and it was pissing her off to no end. And now she was shouting at Dean and storming out like a teenager. "Ugh," she rolled over and grabbed the beer on the bedside table.

A knock on the door paused her drinking and she eyed it warily. The knock came again. Silently she put the bottle back down, grabbed the handgun from next to it and stood. She stalked to the curtains and pulled the edge away just enough to peer out. Dean, stretched forward with his hands on the frame. "Fuck," she whispered. With a sigh she threw her gun onto the bed and unlocked the door and opened it to stare at him with a frown. "How'd you find me?"

He didn't say anything for several moments and Charlotte almost closed the door in his face. He slapped a hand against the wooden door, pushed it back open and stared at her with a look of pure determination. He stepped inside, cupped her cheeks with both hands, kicked her door closed and walked her back until her back hit the wall.

Her heart thumped for several reasons: 1, she was scared. 2, concerned and worried were lumped together. 3, she'd never seen him look at her with such force before. 4, it was turning her on. She swallowed an awkward lump. "Dean," she managed quietly.

He pressed himself close to her, keeping his hands on her cheeks. He gently pressed his forehead to hers and looked at her. "Talk to me," he whispered, his eyes softening to show him silently pleading with her.

She fumbled for words. Her mouth worked to try to say something, but her breath wouldn't reach her voice. Her fingers clung to his jacket as her mind tried to make up its mind. The heat from his body, the closeness of his mouth and him… her libido won out. She pushed her mouth to his, grabbed onto his neck and pulled him in.

Hungry. Desperate. Needing. The one thing that made sense. She wanted Dean. He had no problem in reciprocating as he let his jacket drop to the floor, his mouth hot and just as desperate against hers. They kicked their shoes off as their hands fumbled with belts and buttons and they made their way to the bed. They left their jeans trailing after them on the floor, underwear following quickly along with shirts and bra.

Charlotte pushed Dean down first, straddled his hips and grabbed his shoulders as she nipped roughly at his neck. He gasped, his hands threaded in her hair as he tilted his head back to give her more room. He opened and closed his mouth for several seconds as he struggled against the onslaught of her lips and teeth across his neck, throat and jaw in small swathes of pleasure. Eventually he managed to grab her arm and gently tugged her up. “Wallet,” he whispered.

She blinked down at him for a moment before she nodded and wriggled off of him. Dean took the moment of fresh air to run a hand over his face with a sigh as he tried to remind himself that he came here to talk. He lifted his head to watch Charlotte pull a condom out of his wallet and tear it open before she came back and straddled his legs. He settled his hand on her thighs and let her do this, let her focus on this and he let out a deep breath as she rolled the condom on before moving to straddle his hips again.

He reached up, grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her down for a deep kiss. He curled his fingers into the hair at the base of her neck with a low moan, as she shifted her hips and started to slide down onto him. He snapped his head back with a groan when she started to move her hips back up to slide down faster on him, a moan on her own lips. “Jesus,” he muttered, closing his eyes as he grabbed her hips.

He couldn't do much more but gasp and moan and groan as he kept a firm hold on her waist. Sometimes he watched her move, loving the sight of himself disappearing inside of her, the look of bliss on her face with her head thrown back, the way she leaned back, hands propped up on his thighs as she moved her hips down over him. Other times he had to screw his eyes shut to make himself last longer.

For a moment she stopped and Dean opened his eyes to see her bending over him. Then her hands were in his hair and he was being pulled happily and warmly into a bruising kiss as her hips started again and Dean met her with his own little thrusts. Short and sweet, adding to the pressure building up inside of his own stomach and with each extra thrust he could feel her tense that little bit more, and more, and more.

She came with her head pressed to his, eyes screwed shut, her back arched and her body clenched tightly around Dean, making him gasp, his hands holding onto her waist tightly as he tried to move. She whined quietly and he moved his hands to the back of her thighs as he jerked up into her faster and lifted his head to catch her mouth with his before he threw his head back with his own groan, his body shivering and shaking with the orgasm as he rode it through, his hands clutching onto her.

They stayed like that for a while before she pulled off of him to settle in the space next to him on the bed. Dean pulled the condom off, tied it and tossed it in the vague direction of the bathroom before he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She turned her head towards him, her back pressed flat against the bed and one arm slung over her own stomach as she steadied her breathing again.

He lifted his eyes to find hers locked onto him. "Dean," she whispered.

His mouth drowned out any other words and he cupped her face with one hand. "Come here," he whispered and he rolled onto his side, wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him, her back against his chest. He nuzzled the back of her neck with his nose, his eyes closed, and whispered, "What's wrong with you?"

Silence.

More silence.

"Hey," he tried a little louder, giving a light squeeze to her stomach.

She turned her head over her shoulder and eyed him. After a moment she sighed and turned her head away from him and pushed herself further against him. "I can't remember the first four years of my life. Nothing until kindergarten in Wyoming and my Mum's buried in Montana, _not_ Wyoming I don't- I don't remember anything about her. Just that one day she- she wasn't there. And that was it."

"Nothing?"

She shook her head. "No. I don't remember anything about Montana, Mum being a teacher, her singing, Matthew, her and Dad together." She rolled to face him and he could see the tears starting in the corner of her eyes. "What kind of four year old kid can't remember anything about their Mum?"

"Come here," he whispered, pulling her into him. Tears stained his chest and he held her close. He could remember a lot of things about his own mother. If he somehow didn't have a single memory of her he had no idea what he would do. He couldn't imagine how she was feeling. "We'll figure it out Charlotte. I promise. We'll figure it out."


	44. 2007 - January part 3

 

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

Charlotte was looking through a series of books for the description of a monster that somebody had come across. Bobby was looking through another series of books in between answering phone calls and the like. Some creature was feeding on the blood of people yet it didn’t scream Vampire attack.

Which made their work a little harder. Lots of creatures liked the taste of human blood.

She had her laptop open on the couch next to her. Quiet music always did help to pass the time. Not to mention the criminal nationwide police database made it easy to know if any Hunters needed a little ‘get out of jail’ help. Sam had help program the system to beep whenever a name from an inputted list were put into a police database anywhere within the States.

It beeped and she looked up.

A sigh left her mouth. “Who is it?”

“Winchesters.”

Bobby frowned. “The hell they gotten themselves into this time?”

He moved to peer over her screen as she brought up the charges. “Oh, that St Louis Shapeshifter Dean thing and Sam, just cause. The usual stuff, grave desecrations, assault, breaking and entering…. Oooh.” She frowned.

“What?”

“Dean’s being charged with murder. Again.” She frowned and read the lines. “Something about being found over the body of a lawyer’s wife.”

“They’re on their own for that one.”

Charlotte nodded with a bite to her lower lip. This could be bad. Dean would be charged with murder and Sam would be an accomplice. Some days she hated the justice system. After another few looks into what was happening, she decided to wait it out. Somehow they would find a way out of it. Most hunters did.

She got back to the reading of the books.

Three hours later and between them Bobby and her had narrowed down the list to three potential creatures. Another hour had the phone ringing for a call out. “I’ll take it,” Charlotte offered and she happily dumped the books on the couch. She grabbed her bag, jacket and the keys to the truck and left.

As she climbed into the truck she gave Sam a call. Thankfully he answered and she almost sighed in relief. “Hey, heard you two got arrested.”

“Oh, yeah well, we’re working on it.”

“Uh huh. Define working on it.”

“Well I’m out. But Dean’s still in custody.”

“Well he has supposedly murdered a few people right?”

Sam gave a light chuckle. “I guess. Anything you or Bobby could do?”

She laughed. “Dean was caught standing over the dead body. I don’t think the best lawyer could get him out of that one.”

“I was hoping for something a little more optimistic.”

She couldn’t help the smile. “Yeah well sometimes, it’s just too funny. It’ll work out. It always does for people like us. Oh, hey, how’s your headaches and nightmares going?”

He sighed and she rolled her eyes. Dean had let her in months ago that Sam was having some “hoodoo psychic visions of children like him,” and the guy had barely brought it up. In fact it had been mentioned in passing maybe twice, and neither times did Sam elaborate. Dean was the one to fill her and Bobby in on the news.

“It’s fine. Look, I gotta find a way to get Dean out of jail.”

“Okay, prove it wasn’t him.”

“Yeah.” She heard the sarcasm. “I’ll just point the Police to the ghost we’ve been following around shall I?”

She shrugged and started the engine, “Seeing is believing. Let me know what happens anyway, good luck.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

She hung up and pulled the truck out of Singer Salvage. The person who’d broken down was someone who was passing through to get to North Dakota. When she pulled up the guy in his business suit was pacing and seemed ready to tell her to hurry up. She bit her tongue as she turned off the engine. One look at the car told her that he’d blown a tyre and didn’t have a spare.

She sighed and climbed out. Her phone rang and she eyed the item. Alex. “Hey, can I call you back? I’m in the middle of a fix?”

“Yeah, sure, sorry.”

“Thanks.” She hung up and took a look at the wheel. “Does anything else seem to be the problem?”

“Aren’t you supposed to tell me that?” She glared at him and refrained from biting back a remark. After a moment the man just waved a dismissive hand in her direction as his phone rang. “I don’t know. It’s been a while since I had it serviced.”

“All right look, I’ll take it, replace the wheel and take a look around for you. You got anywhere you’re gonna be staying?”

He nodded absently to a small diner. “I assume it won’t take long.”

“Just an hour or two.”

“And how much will it be?”

“I’ll let you know when I’m done.” She managed to get the car onto the back of the truck and towed it back to the salvage yard. Before she started work on it she gave Alex a call. “Hey, is everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah I was just wondering if I could come and see you.”

Her gut twisted at those words and she had to close her eyes for a moment and take a breath before she eyed the car that needed fixing. “Sure. You’re welcome to come round now if you want.”

“Right, well, I’ll be there in about twenty.”

“Okay, well, feel free to just come round the back. I’ll be working on a car.”

“Yeah, sure. See you.”

“Bye.” She quirked one brow at the oddness of his voice. There was something on his mind. With a frown she shook it away and set to work on finding a replacement tyre. She’d just managed to take the wheel off when Alex appeared, his hands in his pockets and a weary half smile on his face. She narrowed her eyes ever so slightly. “Is everything okay?” There was a twist in her gut and she couldn't tell what it meant.

“Yeah I was wondering if, well, my Dad has this old cottage next to a lake in Wisconsin and I’ve still got a week before I go back to work. I was wondering if we could go up there for a few days.”

The soft smile that curled the corner of her lips couldn't be helped and her entire face softened at the idea, at the offer. A few days of nothing but her and Alex. Oh her mind ran wild with ideas of sex, cuddling, laying about, doing nothing and worrying about nothing. No monsters. Ghosts. Phone calls. Engine grease smell or stains. Peace and quiet. She'd never been offered such a thing with the phones always ringing off the hooks, research to do, Dean and Sam to keep an eye on, she barely had any time to breathe empty air.

Her phone buzzed and she eyed the caller. Sam. Her mind worked its way round to Dean and she bit her lip. His eyes strayed to other women, she knew that. She also knew that he kept in contact with Cassie. Her brows started to furrow and she looked back up at the worried expression on Alex's face. Was that guilt she could feel climbing up the insides of her stomach? Did she feel bad? Maybe. A little, and maybe she felt a little selfish with the idea that she deserved a couple of days away from the mess of her life and the hunting world.

“That would be awesome. When do you want to leave?”

Alex grinned. “Well, I was thinking of sometime tomorrow. Maybe around twelve so that when we get there we can just rest the night and do whatever we wanted to the next two days.”

Her hand hesitated by her side between pulling him against her and staying exactly where she was. In the end she pulled him flush against herself and grinned up at him. The guy had the same height as Sam and sometimes it was wonderful. Other days it amazed her he was that tall. “That,” she grinned as she wrapped her hands around his neck, “sound fantastic.” And she kissed him. Let herself fall into the touches and the deepness with a satisfied yet discomforting knot in her stomach. When she released him she kept the grin on her face. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

He nodded. Pecked her lips once. “Tomorrow. And I promise you you will not regret this.”

When he left she turned back to the car with furrowed brows. There was some odd feeling in the back of her throat. Did she feel guilty for not ending it with him? A little. For not telling him about Dean? Did she feel bad for that? Or was it the fact that she wasn't telling Dean about this? She sighed and hung her head, already regretting her decision.

A lump started in the back of her throat and she tried to swallow it, unsuccessfully. Maybe she should tell Dean. Maybe. She frowned and decided to put her focus into putting the new wheel onto the car and doing a quick check over of it. It took her only an hour and she was able to take it back, round up a number and get back in time for her mind to start working up the guilt train again.

She rolled her eyes at herself and told herself that this was a good thing. A break, a weekend off from everything. But that didn't stop the worrying of her bottom lip between her teeth and the way she kept scrolling to Alex's name in her phone to call him. By the time she made it back to Bobby's she made her decision. This weekend would be the perfect time to explain a few certain truths to Alex, try to explain the bruises and cuts she always seemed to be covered in. Maybe

Bobby was on the phones and she settled on putting some of the books back onto the shelves when her phone rang. Dean. With a sigh she moved upstairs as she answered it, “Hey. No longer in custody I hope?”

“I thought you liked the bad ones.”

“Uh huh,” she said. A smirk curled her mouth. “Charges dropped?”

“Oh yeah. Thankfully one of the detectives killed the ghost and it kind of helped us out in the end.”

She frowned, “Right.”

“Hey, listen, me and Sammy were thinking of stopping by for a couple of days.”

The lump and guilt was back. “Well, feel free to but I won’t be here.”

“Okay?”

She bit her lip and crossed one arm across her chest. “Alex invited me to a few days away in Wisconsin. Just him and me.”

“Oh,” he paused, “you going?”

“Yeah,” she swallowed, “problem?”

There was another slight pause. “Nope. You two have all the fun in the world.”

She needed to change the topic to stop her skin crawling. “So are you two catching a few drinks before you head over or what?”

“Oh, we were just gonna catch some sleep and check in but erm, Sammy might’ve caught a case in Mississippi. We’ll probably have another look in the morning at it.” Her stomach twisted. She couldn’t tell if Dean was being honest or lying about it. But neither of them had really set down some ground rules on what the thing between them was. They'd never had any rules and somehow they hadn't started yet.

She sighed internally. “Okay, well I’m sure Bobby would love to see you two.”

“Yeah no I’m sure he would. I should probably get some sleep. See you around.” And he hung up. She closed her eyes and released the silent sigh. After a moment she opened them again and dropped her phone onto the night stand in her room. Screw him. If he was going to deflect then whatever. She could live with that. She grabbed a duffle bag and threw in a few pairs of clothes and anything she would need to live a few days away from home. Maybe having a few days away would do her well. She glared at her clothes. When the hell was the last time she took some time to herself away from anyone and anything? Whenever they dropped by that was their break, but then she had to humour them in some way at least. Then there was the towing, Jo, Ellen and Ash, Bobby. Hunting.

Screw everything.

She needed a break and if he was going to be a grouchy kid about it then fine. She could deal with that. Screw him. She needed time away from him too.

That thought stopped her in her actions and she bit on her bottom lip. “Fuck you Dean Winchester,” she muttered before she continued with her packing.

 


	45. 2007 - January part 4

_Wisconsin – Lake Winnebago_

It was only night one but she hadn’t been able to settle. They’d arrived, settled in, kicked back and relaxed. She'd been trying to come up with a good opening to her explanation, trying to convince herself that it would be good to bring up her “job”. But no matter how she worded it in her mind and no matter how many times she opened her mouth to say something, she'd froze and clamped her mouth back shut.

And the knots in her stomach that refused to leave didn't help either.

Charlotte stood on the porch that held a wonderful view of the lake, after sneaking away from Alex who was curled up in bed asleep. Her phone was in one hand, and she was twisting and wriggling it in her grasp. With a sigh she let herself lean on the wooden railings and scrolled through the names in her contacts. _Dean_.

It wasn’t guilt. It couldn’t be. She knew he would have found a bar somewhere and picked up a girl all of his own. And it wasn't like she'd done anything yet.

She sighed and dialled. _Damn Winchester._ It seemed to take longer than usual for him to pick up. When he spoke it was in a hushed tone. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she bit her lip. What did she was want to say?

“Charlotte?”

“Yeah?”

He sighed and she glared into the moon stricken water. “What’d you want?”

“I guess I thought I’d just check in.”

“Okay?”

A pause. She rolled her eyes. “So?”

“So what?”

Now it was her turn to sigh. “How are you and Sam?”

“We’re good.”

“Okay,” she nodded, “and what are you two doing?”

There was the sound of knocking on Dean’s end before a distinctly female voice said, “Dean? Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he called back to her, “just, gimme a minute.”

“Okay.”

And suddenly she wanted to end the call and wished she’d never made it in the first place. “Cassie?”

“Yeah,” he muttered, “look, is, is everything okay?”

Charlotte turned her eyes over her shoulder. It was still dark inside which meant Alex was still in bed. She sighed and turned her gaze back to the lake. Was it? Was she? She wasn’t jealous. Charlotte Dixon did not get jealous of Dean Winchester. It just, no. But her stomach twisted and she felt her throat close up a little as she muttered quietly, “Yeah,” she stood up straighter. “No everything’s fine. What about you?”

There was another pause. “Yeah. Fine. See you around.”

“Bye,” and she hung up.

With a quiet groan she moved back inside, dumped her phone by the bed and climbed back in by Alex’s side.

*

Dean sighed as Sam called him the next morning. The younger brother wanted to visit Bobby at least. He’d tried to wave it off, tried to put it off for just a few more hours until Sam came a knocking. “What?” he answered the taller Winchester.

Sam passed a look over Dean’s shoulder then back to his brother. He spoke in a hushed tone, “I found something.”

That prompted Dean to pull the door almost closed behind himself. “What’d you find?”

“Black dog killed a successful architect. But he became an overnight success ten years ago exactly.”

Dean frowned. “Ten years?”

Sam nodded, smirk lighting up his features. “Hellhound."

“Gimme a minute.” He moved back inside and found Cassie stood against the wall, arms folded over her chest. “Cassie, I-”

“Go.” There was a slight smirk to her features. She pushed off from the wall and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him close to her. “Just come back at some point.”

“I will do.” He pecked her mouth, grabbed his stuff, gave her one last kiss with a smile and left. When he got into the Impala Sam just looked at him with frowning eyes. “What?”

“Nothing, I just-” Sam shrugged. “I don’t get you two.”

Dean turned his head to his brother. “Me and Cassie?”

Sam sighed. “You and Charlotte. Seriously, you’re both fine sleeping with other people?”

Dean shrugged and started the engine. “Yeah.”

“Right.”

“Whatever. Where are we headed?”

“Greenwood Mississippi.” Dean pressed his foot down and let the engine roar as rubber tore across the asphalt.

*

 

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

Three days passed and Dean finally agreed to swing by Bobby’s. The man in question was busy arguing with one of his old buddies and the brothers just worked their way around back. As they expected Charlotte was there and working hard on an old Lincoln. “Hey,” Sam said.

She lifted her eyes to glance at them. “Hey. How’d the hunt go?”

Sam nodded. “Pretty well. We saved a man from dying. From a hellhound.”

She glanced at them once more, nodded once and turned back to the car, “Nice.”

Sam turned to Dean who eyed his brother with curiosity. Sam turned back to Charlotte. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” _Clang_. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I dunno, you just, you just seem…”

She looked at him with a deep frown. “I just seem what?”

 _Bang_. She pulled a series of cords and wires out of the engine block. Sam cleared his throat. “Off.”

“Nope.”

Dean rolled his eyes and turned to the back door. “Anyone want a beer?”

Sam said yes whilst Charlotte said no and Sam turned and frowned at her. Once his brother was out of earshot he stepped to the side of the car and followed her hands with his eyes. “Charlotte.”

“What?” She wouldn’t look at him.

He spoke louder, “Charlotte.”

“What?!” Now she turned impatient eyes upon him. “What do you want Sammy?”

“What’s wrong?”

Her tone was neither pleasant or calm. “Nothing. Can I work now?”

“I know when something’s bugging you?”

“Yeah? Well maybe I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Sam straightened up, folded his arms over his chest and shrugged. “I’m not leaving until you do.”

“Ugh,” she ignored him and went back to the engine.

Silence circulated the air for several seconds before Dean came back, handing a bottle to his brother. The silence struck him and he looked between the two of them, eyed Sam’s patient staring and Charlotte’s unfair glaring on the car. “What’d I miss?”

“Nothing,” both parties replied.

“Right,” he took a sip of beer and the silence got to him. “Alright, I’m leaving. You two have fun.”

They were alone once more and Sam just kept his eyes on the other woman as he drank. He watched as she threw her eyes at him every now and again, gave a grumble and used her tools a little too hard at times. It took all of two minutes and twelve seconds for her to drop the wrench onto the bench. “What?”

He sighed. “Just talk to me.” She ground her teeth and Sam saw the muscles in her jaw tighten. “Is it Dean?”

She snapped, “No,” and Sam held his hands up. Charlotte sighed and relaxed her body and pressed her hands against the edge of the car to hold herself up. “It’s nothing.”

He eyed her curiously before he said, “You sure?”

She nodded with a faint smile. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Just, never seen you turn down beer before.” She snorted and grabbed a set of pliers and a screwdriver. “How was the vacation to Wisconsin?”

She moved back to the car. “It was fine. Nothing too exciting.” Two hours later and Sam left her to her own devices, telling her he was going to grab some sleep. Charlotte had waved him off and continued with the car as the sun had started to set. Bobby came out not too long after to tell her to get to bed soon and she kissed his cheek, bade him goodnight and continued to work.

She could feel somebody watching her, knew that it was Dean and tried to push that from her mind. He was part of the problem, and yet he couldn’t help it. She couldn’t help it either. It was her fault in the first place. She’d put forward the idea of them seeing other people. It shouldn’t bother her that he was seeing Cassie. Shouldn’t bother her that she’s seeing Alex.

But it did.

A wall of heat hit her back and she stopped what she was doing to turn and come face to face with him. He gave her a smile and offered a bottle of beer. It took her a few seconds to respond but she took it and nodded with her own smile. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” And he moved to stand where Sam had been standing not too long ago. The silence interrupted them and she settled herself with holding the bottle and sipping at the cold liquid inside. “You have fun?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I guess.”

“Something happen?”

She caught his gaze and held his eyes for several seconds before she shrugged and turned her eyes to the dark blue sky. “I told him what I did.”

Dean choked on a mouthful of beer. “You did what?”

She shrugged and took a sip. “I dunno,” she closed the hood of the Lincoln and turned to sit on it, her feet on the bumper. “I couldn’t do with lying to him.” She'd blurted it out on the second morning over pancakes and he'd stopped eating to stare at her and ask if she was joking.

Dean moved to stand next to her, his shoulder brushing her leg. “I guess he didn’t take it well.”

Charlotte smirked. “Yeah. Not exactly.” And she took a large gulp of beer, smacked her lips and circled her arms around her knees. “Oh well,” she turned her head to face him and he looked up at her. “What can you do huh?”

He gave her a pitiful smile and grabbed her arm. “Me and Sammy are still here.”

She rolled her eyes and slid off the hood. “Oh yay, the Winchester drama.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

She could hear the smirk in his voice and shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “You boys have always got something going on. Always.”

And she turned her back on him. The banter was back and it was enough to lift a smile on her face. But it wasn’t enough to fill the void Alex had left. It was true though, she couldn’t lie to him. Couldn’t face him questioning her every word and every cut or bruise. God he’d started accusing Bobby of violence.

But it would’ve been nice if he could have accepted her as a Hunter.

A hand pulled her back and she snapped her body round to find Dean toe to toe with her. There was a smirk to his features. “Where are you going?” Husky and low. It made her insides squirm and a flush begin to creep up her neck.

He dropped his beer to the bench an arm’s reach away, took her beer away from her and put it next to his. She couldn’t help the dumbstruck expression on her face and couldn’t help her reaction when he took her face in his hands and kissed her mouth. She kissed him back, gently, and he pulled away. Her fingers were caught in the creases of his sleeves and she looked into hazel-green eyes with a growing hunger. “I hate you,” she whispered.

Dean laughed and she joined in. He touched his forehead to hers. “I hate you too,” and he recaptured her mouth, slinking one arm around her waist to hold her closer. Her arms wormed around his neck and drew him in deeper.

His other hand held her waist and he pulled away to rest his chin on her shoulder and she shoved her face into the crevice of his neck. She pulled tighter on him and he gripped her just that little tighter. He knew that she wanted something normal, something outside of hunting, something that would last. It wasn’t a secret that she would have dropped anything for Alex. He dug his fingers in a little tighter and pulled her closer but Dean couldn't help the need to keep her pulled close to his chest, couldn't help the twist of his gut that was partially happy at the outcome.

He let out a deep breath and placed a kiss to her temple. He simply held her as she held on tight and he could feel the tenseness of her muscles take a firm hold as she dug her fingers hard into his shoulders. He would hold her for however long she wanted, he knew that for certain.

 


	46. 2007 - January part 5

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

Dean stared at his phone, at Cassie's name emblazoned on his screen. It had been a few days since he and Sammy had dropped by Bobby's house and they were giving it a few more days before they left.

But since he'd found out Charlotte had unwillingly finished things with Alex, he'd found himself tapping his finger against his phone and scrolling to Cassie's name.

It was seven in the morning, he'd been unable to sleep, and the only other person awake was Bobby. From his position on the couch he could see Bobby sighing and pulling all kinds of faces as he spoke on the phone. Dean turned his eyes to his own phone, sighed, shut the top of it and shoved it into his pocket. The morning paper was by his side and he picked it up, looking for their next hunt. The only things that had piqued his interest had been a few strange murders that didn't scream _supernatural doings_ and he'd ended up just looking at every article and idly reading them.

A few minutes in, out of the corner of his eyes, he caught Bobby move into the living room and just stare at him. Dean pulled the newspaper away from his face with upturned brows, "Bobby?"

"You and I are gonna talk," Bobby said and he moved into the room, grabbed a bottle of bourbon and two glasses. Dean frowned, dropped the paper to one side and moved towards the desk. Bobby offered him one of the glasses that had a measure in them. "I like you Dean. You and your brother are family."

His frown deepened and he took a sip of the alcohol with a small nod. "I know. You're like a Dad to us."

Bobby nodded, took his glass and swirled the liquid around before he sat down in the chair. "But Charlotte's family too."

The frown on Dean's face didn't leave, just deepened. "Okay?"

Bobby fixed his eyes on the Dean with a hint of venom. "Now, I don't know what you two are playing at, what you two have agreed on, but either you stop playin' around or you leave her alone."

Now he was confused. "Bobby?"

He stood and stepped around the desk to be inches away from the oldest Winchester. "One minute you two are happy as Larry and the next you've got your hands around each other's throats." Dean couldn't argue there. They were always at two ends of the spectrum. "Don't get me wrong, I like her being happy. Hell it's nice to see you looking so peachy now and again."

Dean recoiled at that. "Peachy?"

Bobby shrugged a shoulder. "You look like you've been dragged through the mud all the time, a change sure is nice." And he moved back to his seat to knock back the contents of the glass. "I'm just sayin', it'd be nice if you two could make your damn minds up. She's as much to blame as you, I know that. But you're with Cassie still and she's only just finished with Alex."

"Yeah, but, Bobby-" Dean struggled for words. What did he want to say? It was complicated? In anybody else's eyes it was far from it, but it was. At least, it was for him. He'd never admit it but the idea of settling, the potential for it happening, it scared him a little. He liked the idea of it, but it terrified him to think about the apple pie life with a white picket fence and two point five kids. He'd never been able to settle anywhere and to be able to do that with one person? It made him want to turn the other way and run.

"I'm just sayin'," Bobby continued, ignoring the man's spluttering vocabulary, "both of ya' need to sort it out."

Silence struck him and Dean nodded with a light frown. "I'm working on it." And he took another sip.

"You better," one of the phones started ringing again and Bobby just moved off into the kitchen and picked up the receiver.

Dean let his eyes fall onto the amber liquid. Sometimes, Bobby scared him. The man had gone all 'protective father' on his ass a few times over the years, and each time it left him speechless. Every time the man had a good point and Dean had nothing in response.

He sighed and finished off the drink, picked up the newspaper and settled on finishing the article he'd been halfway through. A few minutes later, as he'd turned the page, Charlotte jumped down the bottom steps with her keys in her hand. She moved straight to the kitchen to Bobby, "I'm going to get some groceries. Want anything?” The older man waved to the fridge and cupboards and she opened them, looked in and nodded her head before she moved into the living room. "What are you doing up this early?"

Dean shrugged. "A guy can't get up early when he wants?"

There was a smirk to her mouth. "You? No." Then she nodded to the front door. "Wanna tag along?"

He shrugged again. "Sure,” he mumbled before he tossed the paper onto the couch. He followed her outside to her car, closed the door and sat back with a sigh. That made her eye him and he glanced at her. "What?"

"Something up?"

He shook his head. "Nope."

"Okay." She didn't believe him and he didn't care. The rest of the trip was taken in silence besides the music that played itself on the radio. They climbed out, locked the car and moved into the store. Dean followed behind her, asking himself why he'd bothered to come along with her. As he followed her around the store Bobby's words were still in his mind.

Sort it out.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, scrolled down to Cassie's name and eyed it. What would he say? Did he want to end it? His eyes dragged themselves back up when he felt somebody watching him. Charlotte stood a few feet away, one brow cocked and her mouth quirked in silent questioning. He stuffed his phone away and shrugged his shoulders, "What?"

"What's up with you?"

"Nothing."

She just looked at him for a few seconds before she rolled her eyes. "Whatever," and she picked up the basket and carried on. The rest of the shopping trip was spent with her picking things up, putting them into the basket and Dean following behind like a teenager. His mind was busy trying to think up what he would do.

They checked out, she forced him to carry a bag and they started back on the road with barely five words passing between them. Halfway through the journey, with only the radio to fill the silence, Dean let his mind roll back to Cassie. The least he could do, if he was going to do anything, was do it in person.

Tyres screeched along tarmac and Dean put his hand out to hold the dash as Charlotte's car swung into a side street that he'd never seen used. Charlotte turned the car off and turned to glare at him. "What is your problem?"

He snapped his eyes to hers to see concern dancing between forced anger and worry. "What?"

"Something's bothering you and now you're starting to bug me Dean. What is it?"

"Nothing!"

"Well that's a load of crap." She took her key out of the ignition and climbed out of the car. Dean watched her for a moment before he sighed. He couldn't put into words what was on his mind, what was bothering him. He still needed to think about what he wanted to do.

"Charlotte," he climbed out and approached her at the hood of the car. He put a hand on his hips and he ran the other one down his face. "What's wrong?"

She looked at him with concern and he stiffened his jaw. "Something's bothering you. The last time you were this silent, this, internalised, was when your Dad d-" she stopped and let her mouth hung open. A sigh escaped her and she ducked her eyes. Dean ground his teeth together and waited for her to finish. Over the past few days Sam had been asking him if anything was up and he'd tried to brush it off with nothing but the itch of a hunt. "I just want to know what is-, what are you thinking? I mean, Sam's been worried, I'm worried. You're not this quiet unless you're pissed or something bad's about to happen."

He shook his head. "Nothing bad is going to happen."

She looked at him with a frown and sighed, folded her arms over chest and fixed her gaze with more certainty. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have- I," she sighed again. "I shouldn't have said anything."

And she turned to head back to the driver's seat. Dean's gaze dropped and his mind told him to reach out, grab her arm, turn her back to him and pull her close. He did. The strength of his gaze had her confused and he let his hands settle on her waist. She frowned and Dean pressed his mouth against hers in a single gentle caress. He sighed. "I've just been thinking," he muttered against her mouth.

"Some deep thinking."

He smiled and moved his mouth to kiss her forehead and pull back to look her in the eyes. "Everything's fine." And he gave her waist a light squeeze. "We should get back to Bobby's." And he pulled himself away to sit back in the car. She joined him and minutes later they were back. He helped carry a bag in, dropped it and said to Bobby and Charlotte that he would be back, that he had something to do.

Both of them threw him curious glances but let him be and said they would tell Sam he was going somewhere anyway. He climbed into the Impala and made straight for Cape Girardeau in Missouri to talk to Cassie.

By the time he got back, turning two ten hour road trips into eight and seven hours, it was nearing midnight and he wanted to do nothing but sit back and drink beer. He got back to Bobby's and entered a relatively still house. There were a set of quiet voices from around back and he moved through the house and outside, grabbing a beer on the way, to see Sam and Charlotte in the engine of the Town Lincoln that she still hadn't finished. Their words became clear and he smiled. She was teaching him some basics of how to fix a car.

He approached and stood to the side. Both parties flicked their eyes up at him for a moment before Charlotte went on to talk about the radiator and battery. Dean oversaw it all, interjecting now and again with a useful tip here and there. Eventually she called it a night, bid the brothers good night and left them. Sam turned curious eyes to Dean. "Where'd you go?"

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter." And he nodded to the engine. "What brought this on? I thought you liked your books and research more than a car."

Sam laughed and wiped his hands on a rag. "It was her idea. She said you'd end up knocking yourself out or something and I'd need to know what to do in case the Impala ever broke down."

He frowned. "Well that's rude. I don't knock myself out."

Sam gave another laugh and nodded his head towards the house. "I'm gonna hit the sack."

Dean nodded. "I'm gonna check over the Impala before I sleep." They parted and Dean sighed. He gave it a few minutes before he finished his beer, stepped back inside the house, locked the doors and started upstairs. He hoped Charlotte wasn't asleep yet. He came to her room, eyed Bobby's room and the spare room Sam would be in, listened for a few seconds before he raised his fist to knock on her door.

He paused, his hand hovering over the handle before he grabbed it and twisted. He stepped inside and shut the door quietly behind himself. She was still awake, spread out on her stomach with a book in her hands. She lifted her head up with a small frown and a mutter of, "What?"

Dean kicked his shoes off and moved to sit on the edge of her bed. "I thought you were going to bed?"

She shrugged and turned back to her book. A faint smile started to light his face up. "Wanted to finish this chapter." For the first time that day, he knew what he wanted to do and he didn't feel anything against it. He reached forward, one hand on her back as the other plucked the book from her hands and let it drop to the floor. She turned a glare onto his smirking features and he silenced any words she had with his mouth against hers. She moved into the touch and he picked up the pace, letting her know just how much he needed her touch. He cupped the back of her neck and eased her onto her back, pushing himself on top of her as he let a hand slide down her side and underneath the hem of her shirt.

“Dean,” she whispered with a grin.

“Hmm?” he hummed, moving to nip at her neck and collarbone.

“What's going on?”

He lifted his head with a soft expression and smiled warmly down at her. “I'm making a decision,” he murmured before he kissed her gently. She kissed him back and he let his hands begin to roam her body. “I can't keep my hands off of you,” he mumbled as he trailed his fingers up her stomach, pushing her shirt up with them. “You spoil me.”

She threaded a hand through his hair, dragging her nails lightly across his scalp. “I hate you,” she whispered and he grinned.

“I hate you too,” he mumbled before he kissed her again, his fingers popping the button on her jeans. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for how long it's taken me to upload this chapter. Fingers crossed I'm going to be able to upload more chapters more often than once every six months.


	47. 2007 - February

 

 

_Oregon – Medford_

Charlotte sighed as she entered the motel room. Jo had called up to tell her that she’d gotten a case and was handling it all on her own in Medford. A revenant. Charlotte had cursed and told her she’d be right there. When she entered Jo was nursing a bite on her forearm. The blonde flicked blue eyes up dismissively. “What?”

She said nothing, just grabbed the first aid kit and took the cloth out of Jo’s hands. “What d’ya need to kill a revenant?”

“Silver knife to the heart.”

Charlotte chuckled, blue eyes meeting another pair of blue. “Not quite.” And she pulled up a crappy motel chair to sit in front of Jo, the woman’s arm in her hands. She pulled out antiseptic wipes and started with the edges before she pushed on the actual bites. “A casket. Find out where it came from. Bait it. Stake it in there with silver stakes.”

Jo frowned and Charlotte held the smirk in place. “Silver stakes?”

She nodded. “Yep. No true, clean way of getting rid of them yet. But silver knives and bullets hurt like a bitch.”

Jo tried to snatch her arm away and Charlotte held it in place with a stern look. The younger woman just rolled her eyes and shoved her arm back into Charlotte’s grasp. “You didn’t have to come.”

“I did.” Their eyes met before Charlotte looked away first to focus on Jo's arm. “I wanted to make sure you got this. Revenant’s are tricky bastards and I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a little late for that,” and she attempted to wave her arm at Charlotte.

The older Hunter just glared at her and retook it. “I’m not here to babysit you Jo. I just,” she sighed and stopped wiping to grab some gauze. “I just want to make sure you can do this.”

“I put down a ghost the other week. And before that a Ghoul.” Charlotte quirked one brow and focused on the bite, wrapping it up. “I know what I’m doing.”

“You got bit.”

Jo snatched her arm back and stood with a glare. “You got bit by a Vampire.”

Charlotte glared at the wall and ground her teeth. She took three breaths before she stood and turned calmly to the other woman. “Two Vampires jumped me in the middle of a parking lot whilst I was on my phone just before I was going to bed.”

“Everyone screws up Charlotte. I’ll screw up.”

“And that screw up may just be your last!” Silence bounced around the walls and Charlotte’s face fell into a look of sorry. “Look, I,” she sighed and stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “Yes. I got attacked by Vampires. Yes they bit me. Yes I screwed up. But I knew that there was a chance that that could’ve been my last day. I’ve chased poltergeists across the states and it’s almost killed me. I've had had demons almost rip my throat out, Ghouls intent on dragging me through dark dank passages so that they could gnaw on my insides. I was this close,” she held a hand up, “this close to being dinner for a Wendigo.” 

Jo just looked at her with a stern expression.

“There is always a risk. I know that. Do you?”

“Of course I-”

Charlotte shook her head. “The risk that every hunt, no matter how small, could be your last. You need facts before you can go in heads first and if you’re unsure of something you call in back up.”

Silence bounced between them before Jo let out a breath and dropped her eyes. She spoke in a mutter, “That’s why I called you.”

“What?”

Jo lifted her eyes and planted her hands on her hips. “That’s why I called you.”

Charlotte eyed the other woman in silence for several seconds before she said, “You couldn’t just say that? You let me talk to you and try to-”

There was a light smirk to the corner of Jo’s mouth. “I like to hear your voice sometimes.”

And the older woman rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest. “Okay, tell me what the facts are.” The next hour Jo went over who the Revenant was, who it was going after and why. Charlotte nodded and asked about a cemetery. Jo nodded and told her that the guy had been buried. She’d checked it out and found there to be a hole. “Let’s go see his grave then.”

“What? Now?”

It was nearing nine and it was almost pitch black outside. Charlotte nodded. “Yeah. We can dig it out a little better and I should have a couple stakes in my trunk. We get everything ready, then we lure it in, nail it, close it and bury it. Job done.”

Jo pulled a face. “Nail a corpse to a coffin?”

Charlotte nodded with a grin. “Yep. Comes with the job.”

“Fine. What are we waiting for?”

The older woman closed her eyes and let a smile take over her features. They took her car and directions from Jo. “You know how to lure it?”

Jo gave a shrug. “I’ve an idea. It liked to terrorise the family at their house.”

Charlotte nodded. “You know where that is?”

“Just a few yards from the cemetery actually. It’s a little creepy to be honest.”

“Yeah well, cemeteries are creepy anyway.”

“True.” They arrived at the cemetery, grabbed a shovel from Charlotte’s trunk along with the spare Jo had thrown in there, two silver stakes and followed their torches until they found the disturbed grave site. “So we just dig it out and prop open the coffin?”

Charlotte nodded and started shovelling the dirt.

  
They were twenty minutes in when Jo stopped to eye Charlotte. “How are the Winchester’s doing?”

Charlotte stopped and leaned on the shovel. “Last time I checked they were fine. Why?”

She shrugged. “All I’ve heard is that they’ve been hunting.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”  
  
“And you don’t know where they are?”

Charlotte shook her head. It wasn’t her job to keep tabs on two grown men. “Nope. It isn’t my job to follow them around.”

“What about Dean?”

“What about Dean?”

Jo just looked at Charlotte. “I thought you two were like, doing it. A lot.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And you don’t keep tabs on him?”

Charlotte frowned at Jo. “You mean in case he decides to shag another woman?” Jo nodded and the older woman sighed and pulled her shovel out of the dirt. “He can feel free to. I’ve shagged other men. And women.”

“Women?”

“What?” Charlotte turned to Jo. “You thought when I spoke about hot women with,” she made a gesture over her chest with her hands, “you thought I was joking?”

“You weren’t?” Charlotte pursed her lips and let her mind think for a few seconds and a chuckle started to escape her. She fixed her eyes on Jo and the other woman frowned. “What’s so funny?”

“Dean’s going to explode.”

It took a few seconds for Jo to smile and she laughed too. “You might actually shut him up with that.”

“For once.”

Jo laughed again and they spend the next twenty minutes digging through the dirt and creating a nice coffin shaped hole in the ground. The coffin’s lid had been broken open and they pulled it open with combined effort. It leaned against the wall they created and they looked at each other. “Wanna play bait?” Charlotte asked.

“Oh you can play bait.”

“Okay, I’m playing bait.” They hauled themselves out of the hole and Charlotte patted down her hands on her jeans. “What do I need to do?”

“Well Eddie gets attracted to the sound of guns. Some gun nut when he was human. Just aim somewhere and fire I say.”

Charlotte nodded, grabbed her gun and took several small steps through the mix of tombstones. The plan had been agreed that Charlotte would let the creature chase her. She would bait it towards its grave. Jo would jump out of her hiding spot, shoot it to distract it. Charlotte would shove it into the hole and Jo would stake it to the coffin.

That was the plan.

What did happen was Charlotte was chased. The Revenant sent her tumbling, brought its hands to her neck with a fierce grip. Jo had to jump up and shoot it then to stop Charlotte from dying. The creature reared back, growled at Jo and made a start towards her. Charlotte tackled it into the hole, found herself fighting heavy hands and still strong muscles. Jo joined her in the coffin and as they wrestled with the Revenant’s arm Jo managed to drive a stake through its chest.

At once the creature stopped moving. The hunters stood up, looked at each other and gave each other a high five before they pulled themselves out of the grave once more. Whilst Jo easily pulled herself up Charlotte rolled onto the higher ground with a groan. The Revenant had done something to her shoulder.

Shovels were grabbed and dirt was thrown back in.

It took a little longer for the dirt to go back in, but when it was full they slouched, grabbed their torches and started a slow and pained walk back to Charlotte’s car. “I’m using your shower first.”

Jo turned open mouthed to her. “Get your own shower.”

“It’s gone midnight! I’ll sleep on the floor! Joooo!” she whined, pouting playfully.

The smirk on both of their faces rolled into laughter and Jo wiped a strand of blonde hair out of her face. “Whatever. Just don’t ever do that again.”

“Whatever. I’ll do it when I like.”

They got back to the motel and Charlotte dived for the bathroom first. She rushed through the cleaning process, dressed and grabbed her buzzing phone from Jo’s hands. The younger woman just moved into the bathroom for her own shower. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Dean. “Where are you?”

“Medford Oregon. Why?”

“Oregon?”

Charlotte frowned at the phone. “You deaf Dean?”

“Right, erm.”

She frowned deeper and perched herself on the edge of the bed. “What?”

“Nothing, I just, I just wanted to hear your voice.”

She leaned forward, worried now. “How bad?”

“Well, not, bad, per se… it was just, yeah.”

“Okay. What do you wanna talk about?”

Jo came out of the bathroom and Charlotte took her conversation outside. “You remember when you told me you wanted to stop hunting. That if there was somebody out there for you, you would, you’d give everything up for them.”

Her throat tightened. This was a conversation she did not want to be having. “Yeah,” she squeezed out.

“I- you think-” he sighed. “Do you still think that? That there’s a chance that maybe we can all stop what we’re doing and just, settle.”

Charlotte shrugged. “I guess. What’s brought this on?”

She could hear the shake of his head. “Nothing. Just, been thinking.”

She frowned. “You’ve been doing a lot of that recently.”

“Yeah.”  
  
“Dean. Talk to me.”

“I should go.”

Charlotte sighed. “Alright. Bye.”  
“See you.”

And he hung up. She stared at the phone for a few more moments before she shoved it into her fist and moved back inside. Jo was sat on her bed, pretending to mess around on her own phone. “Everything okay?”

Charlotte nodded and grabbed the extra pillow Jo threw her way. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.” There was a blanket on the end of the bed and she plucked this up, kicked her shoes off and settled herself onto the floor. “Night Jo.”

“Night.” As the lights flicked out Charlotte’s eyes remained open. There was a small flicker of hope somewhere deep inside of her that someday she could settle down and live a normal life. Someday. But was that with Dean? Was that what he wanted? She rolled onto her back, shoved her hands behind her head and stared at the ceiling, her mind toiling over many questions with many answers. 


	48. 2007 - February part 2

_Oregon – Medford_

Dean had wanted to talk to Charlotte, and since he'd told her that that morning she'd been able to do nothing but worry with all sorts of thoughts running through her mind. She hadn't been able to rid the frown from her features as she ordered a coffee and some lunch from the nearest diner. Jo had already left and Dean said that he would meet her this morning and Charlotte had told him to come to this diner. Both of them could do with some breakfast she was sure.

But something had happened on his last hunt.

When she'd called Sam he'd been reluctant to say anything, just that it wasn't a normal case and that even he was trying to get his head around it.

The familiar sound of the Impala turned her head to the window and she spotted the black beast stop next to her blue Pontiac. Something about their cars sitting side by side had her frowning with an offworldy smile. The door opened, Dean stepped out and he let it close. Charlotte wrapped a hand around her cup of coffee and pulled her plate of still warm fries closer towards her. She'd paid for them after all.

Dean took a seat across from her in the booth and his slightly hunched shoulders, stiff jaw, firm eyes, awkward demeanour had her offering a bleak sad smile. "What happened?" she whispered.

He met her gaze then, held it for four seconds before he took a breath, ducked his eyes and sighed. Then he was looking about the diner. "Can we go somewhere a little more private?"

The corner of her mouth fell down. "Eat something first." He gave her a look and she stared right back. "Eat Dean or I'll force some food down your mouth."

He stared at her with a curious expression before he shook his head with a shrug. "I'm not hungry."

She rolled her eyes and pushed her plate and cup towards him. "Eat. How long have you been driving for?"

He took a gulp and shoved a fry into his mouth. "From Indiana. Sam's with Ash and Ellen. I told them I'd bring you back with me, kicking and screaming."

Charlotte looked at him. "Ellen wants me to visit?"

Dean frowned at her. "I thought Ellen loved you?"

"Kind of. Some days." She shrugged. "I just, don't imagine she's in a good mood with me at the moment."

His frown remained. "Why not?"

"Well, Jo's hunting for one. Ellen told me to never give Jo reason to hunt and now," she shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just, you know, making it up. I-" she sighed and shook her head at his raised brow. "Never mind."

"You ask me, I don't think she's mad at you. She just wants to see you."

"Yeah." Dean finished off the coffee and fries and Charlotte dropped a ten onto the table before they left. He followed behind her to the motel room she and Jo had shared the previous night. She got in first, moved to the bed and took a seat on it, one leg over the other and her arms behind her. "Talk."

He closed the door and stood in the spot next to the door for several seconds before he sighed, took a seat next to her and collapsed backwards onto the bed. She turned over, let herself fall next to him with one hand propping her up. The next forty minutes were spent with Dean telling her about 'Croatoan' in Rivergrove, about what his Dad had told him about Sam, that he was a ticking time bomb and that his Dad trusted him to do the right thing when the time came. Then he told her about Gordon the Vampire killer and how he tried to kill Sam.

As he spoke he had propped himself up and his eyes were following his fingers that were tracing light circles on the revealed skin on Charlotte's stomach. "I just," he started before he sighed, "some days I hate this." His hand stopped turning and his eyes jumped up to hers. "I hate the whole, saving people and risking my life to do it. I mean, I get it, I do, but I want… _more_."

Charlotte let a sad smile take over her features. "Dean," she dragged in a low tone.

"I want a normal life." She froze. He didn't notice. "Since, forever, I've done nothing but hunt. I- I want to just- just- just come home, to a normal house in a normal life and to not have to worry about hunting. I do. Even if I won't, you know, say this out there, I-"

"Dean," the corners of her mouth were quirked up into a soft smile yet the corners of her eyes were moist.

He fixed a look of certainty on her that it had her recoiling a few inches. "What you said," he started, "about wanting to one day have a normal life, about not doing this anymore, I mean-"

She nodded. "I still think there's hope for every Hunter out there." And she shuffled closer, letting her hand fall onto his hip. She dropped her eyes to his chest for a few seconds before she brought them back up. "You, Dean Winchester, would make a great normal guy one day. With a normal house and a normal job and a normal everything."

That seemed to make him grin, even if his eyes betrayed his smile she took it and pulled his chin towards her. Their lips met in a single gentle embrace. He smiled at her and he tucked a loose lock of blonde hair behind her ear. His fingers settled on her cheek, his thumb brushing itself across her cheekbone, his eyes following his hand once more.

"Do you," he started, eyes still focused on his thumb, "do you think _you_ could take normal?" Green eyes flashed to falling blue ones. "Could you settle and forget about everything?"

She ground her teeth together, forcing a tight smile onto her face. "Right now? No." She shook her head. "I tried normal and I- I couldn't."

"That was my fault."

She blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. "What?"

His mouth formed a tight line and he stared at her. "I know it. You broke it off with Alex 'cause of me."

"Dean," she started in a scolding tone.

"No," he said. "Charlotte, please, okay. I'm not- not an idiot. You loved the guy. And now you're in a motel room with me. You had a chance to be normal, to do what you wanted and-" he finished with a shrug.

Her mouth hung open, trying to form words. Her mind was still working to try to grasp what he had said. The tone implied that he thought she was an idiot for it, another tone told her that he blamed himself. She managed a scoff, shoved her hands onto his chest and sat up, bringing her knees to her chest. "Maybe you were the pain in the ass I couldn't get rid of."

Dean appeared in her peripheral vision, a frown affixed to his face. "What?"

She turned a glare on to him. "For a long time Dean I wanted to do nothing but hate you. Why? Cause you were an ass with an eye for the ladies. A hunter who ran head first into every kind of trouble with a death wish. I could count a dozen ways you should've died by now. The good thing to do would've been to carry on with Alex. But you know what? I chose your sorry ass over him. So you either suck that up or I'm outta here."

His frown deepened. "What?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh my God," she muttered before she pushed herself to her feet. "I'm going to see Ellen."

The shuffle of fabric behind her didn't stop her strides. Her hand managed to grab the door handle before his hand latched itself onto hers and stopped her from opening the door. She turned her eyes over her shoulder with her glare fixed in position. "Don't,” Dean whispered, his features softened into a silent plea.

Charlotte pulled herself away, turned to face him and folded her arms over her chest. "Tell me, what were you aiming to get out of this conversation, 'cause at the moment? I'm getting the feeling you want a normal life and you're asking why I didn't stay with Alex. Well I'll tell you what, how about I go find the guy and-"

In the next moment her back had hit the door and his mouth was rough against hers, his hands folded in the creases of her clothes. The heat of his body got her going and she hesitated into the kiss. As it deepened and his hands wormed their way to her waist and he pulled away to look into her eyes. "Don't go."

She looked back and just stared. Her mind was still flying a million miles an hour and yet, it was all going down the drain as the heat between her legs started to itch. Eventually she shook her head, "I'm not going anywhere."

His mouth was back on hers and the fire was burning. He made quick work of her jacket, tossing it to the floor as she wrenched his own from his shoulders. "Dean," Charlotte whispered as Dean nipped at her neck with his bristly chin and mouth.

Their eyes met, he grinned at her and she brought his mouth to hers in the most careful of touches of the night. It lasted an eternity and when he pulled away there was a fondness in his eyes.

His hands lowered from her waist to her hips and he tugged her a little closer towards him, his soft smile turning into a grin. “Good,” he whispered, before he tilted his head and kissed her deeply. She parted her lips and let his tongue roam her mouth as she threaded her hands roughly through his hair, earning a low groan from him. His hands moved from her hips to the button on her jeans and she felt him hesitate.

She nodded her head slightly and let a hand drop to his back pocket, to where he kept his wallet. She felt the button on her jeans pop and the zipper was pulled down. She fumbled behind him as she kissed him harder, more desperately, whilst his hands worked on shoving her jeans down. She managed to grab a condom before she dropped his wallet to the floor and pulled away from the kiss. Dean stared at her with wide, lust blown eyes, and she grinned as she pushed the corner of the wrapped between his lips. “Hold onto that,” she whispered before she roughly dragged a hand down the front of his jeans.

Dean planted both hands on the door behind her as he closed his eyes with a soft moan and she went to work on his jeans. She nibbled on his jaw, working her way down to his neck, making him tilt his head back with deep, heavy breaths. She shoved his pants down, bit down a little harder against his neck and hooked her fingers in the waistband of his boxers before she pushed them down too.

She took him in her hand and slowly started to stroke his length before she plucked the foil packet from Dean's lips. His eyes flicked open then and she watched him lick his lips as he watched her tear the packet open and slide the condom over him. Once it was on he grabbed her arms, slung them over his shoulders and grabbed her ass and pulled her up, and off her feet.

She made a surprised noise before she wrapped her legs around him and let him press her back against the door. He looked over her still clothed chest and shifted one hand to her thigh and squeezed gently before he shifted his footing until his dick was pressed against her entrance. He caught her lips in a hot kiss as he slowly pressed inside of her, gathering a long, drawn out moan from her as she tightened her hold around his neck. “Fuck, Dean,” she groaned between kisses.

“Char,” he whispered breathlessly before he gave a small thrust of his hips so that he was fully seated inside of her with a small gasp from her. Charlotte tightened the hold her legs had around him and Dean held her up by her ass and thighs as he started to set up a quick and dirty pace.

They kissed clumsily, sloppily and messily, one of her hands constantly coming up to grab at his hair. Each painful grip she had of him made him groan and thrust harshly up into her before he returned to his steady rhythm.

"Dean," she whispered an eternity later against his shoulder. Her nails bit into the skin on his back and he couldn't help but groan into the crevice of her shoulder as she lost all breath and shook around him with a loud groan. He gripped the back of her neck with one hand and clung to her as he reached the edge of ecstasy himself before he came just as loudly, his fingers curling into the strands of her hair. He sagged against her and against the door, his energy spent.

The room was hot and her skin was hotter as he let his forehead rest against her shoulder. After a few seconds they pulled their heads back to look at each other and he smiled softly at her. She let a smile break out onto her face and she kissed him on the cheek before she moved to his ear, arms wrapping around his shoulders, "I hate you."

He grinned against her, his nose buried in her neck, "I hate you too."


	49. 2007 - February Part 3

Charlotte set the beer down with a frown. Since Jo had decided to move on up to whatever state offered her a hunt she’d been doing her best to avoid coming down to the Roadhouse. In the end Ellen had called Bobby and told her to “March her ass down here ‘fore I drag her here myself.” Charlotte didn’t hesitate to get in her car after that.

When she’d arrived the bar was in full motion. It was having one of its busier nights and the older woman had thrown a cloth in the young Hunter’s direction with a simple order, “Work.”

The beer had been her five minute break after an hour of grabbing glasses, plates, wiping down tables and cleaning glasses. As she picked up the bottle for another swig Charlotte couldn’t help but to eye Ellen. She half expected the woman to blame her for Jo running off to hunt and was still waiting for her to chew her out. The bottle touched her lips when Ash came through the bar, self-made computer in hand. Ellen joined Charlotte as Ash set the computer down onto the bar top. “You remember the Winchester’s?” he said.

“Yeah,” Ellen said.

“What about them?” Charlotte said.

Ash turned the computer around and tapped a button. On the screen was a news feed of a bank robbery in Milwaukee. A few seconds of silent footage passed, the noise muffled over the sound of the patrons, and then the camera moved to the door of the bank. Dean Winchester.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Charlotte said.

“The hell are those boys up to?”

Charlotte shook her head and glanced at the two of them, “I’ll be right back.” She threw the cloth onto the bar top and started making her way outside, her phone already out and finger scrolling through the list of names until Dean’s showed up.

Once outside she dialled the number and waited. The line picked up and Dean said, “Charlotte, you okay?”

“Why in the hell are you two robbing a bank?” she snapped.

A pause. “It’s a long story.”

“Well start talking.”

He sighed. “It wasn’t us that took over the bank, it was this Roland guy. Look, there’s a Shapeshifter here and it’s been going on a robbery murder spree. We stop it here, we save more lives.”

She quirked one brow in question and tried to stop herself from calling him an idiot. Instead, she settled with, “You are aware the FBI are right outside the door right?”

“We know. Henrikson.”

“Who?”

“That’s the guy’s name.”

“Right, well, it's great to know that you two are on a first name basis.”

He sighed. “Charlotte, we’ll be fine.”

Both of her brows were raised now. “You got a plan?”

The slight hesitance before he spoke had her rolling her eyes and biting her lip to stop from sighing. “We’re working on it. I got to go.”

“Call me, the moment you two are out of there.”

He didn’t say anything, just hung up and Charlotte released an agonised breath. Those boys would be the death of her she was sure. She gripped her phone for a moment longer before she shoved it into her pocket and made her way back inside. Ellen offered her a glance from behind the bar. “Well?”

Charlotte nodded and retook her beer, “Shifter. Apparently.”

“So they took hostage an entire bank?”

She shrugged. “Apparently it wasn’t them.” And she shook her head, “I- ju-” she sighed and took a long gulp of her beer. “They’ll call. Once they’re out they’ll call.”

Ellen stopped filling a glass with beer to lay both hands on the bar top with a worried expression, “You sure they’re gonna be able to make it out of that?”

Charlotte leaned on the bar, looked her in the eyes and shrugged. “Either way, I’m gonna kill them for being a couple of idiots.”

A slight smirk lifted the corner of the older woman’s mouth and she held the cloth back out. “Back to work.”

“Whatever,” Charlotte said as she took the cloth and started to make another round of the bar.

Four hours later and she sat on a stool, cradling her fifth beer of the night. As she’d been working, the beer her payment, she’d been thinking about Jo and wondering how and why the girl had run off to hunt all of a sudden. She knew that Jo had run off with Dean and Sam to hunt that ghost but her reasoning to why she suddenly ran off to hunt on her own didn’t strike home.

Ash was busy keeping tabs on the bank robbery, which was just about to end, and Ellen had been giving the bar top a final wipe down. “What happened?” Charlotte said.

“Well,” Ash started, “The Feds cut power and so-”

Charlotte waved a hand in his direction. “With Jo.” The older woman stopped what she was doing to stare at the young Hunter. Charlotte met her gaze. “What happened when she ran off the first time?”

Ellen and Ash shared a look and Charlotte quirked one brow. “This is that point in the conversation where I leave.”

Ellen followed him with her eyes until they came back to Charlotte with a sigh. “I told her the truth about what happened on the day her Dad died.”

Charlotte frowned. “What did happen?”

“John Winchester.”

And like a switch being flicked Charlotte felt something cold grip her heart and twist. John Winchester. He’d been the last man to see her Dad alive too. In fact, he hadn’t been able to bring the body back home. “What?”

Ellen sighed and grabbed herself a beer. “They were hunting a pack of Hell spawn and John used Bill as bait and it cost him his life.”

Her heart seized in her chest once more. John had been vague about the story behind her Dad’s death, just that he was sorry and that he’d given the man a Hunter’s funeral. But that didn’t make her worry about the implications any less real. Hell spawns. That’s how _her_ Dad had gone out. “Bait?”

Ellen nodded. “John got up too early and it cost Bill his life.”

Numbly Charlotte nodded. “Damn.” No wonder the boys ended up with a bad reputation, their Dad had been a walking target that had bodies dropping like flies around him.  
  
“Yeah. You understand why I was pissed when she ran off to hunt with them boys.”

Charlotte pointed at Ellen with her bottle. “You know they’re not their Dad right?”

It took a moment for Ellen to reply but she nodded. “I know. Now, but other Hunter’s still associate them with their Dad. Like Father like son.”

“Like Mother like daughter?”

Ellen narrowed her eyes and Charlotte couldn’t help her grin. Whatever Ellen was going to say next was drowned out with her ringtone. She pulled her phone out to see Sam’s name staring at her. “Tall and lanky,” she said with a grin into the phone.

Sam sighed. “I thought you’d forgotten about that.”

“Not a chance. Is the grumpy one there?”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, look, I’m just calling to let you know we’re out. No Feds, no handcuffs, nothing. We’re on the road now and we figured we’d drop by Bobby’s. Say hi.”

“How considerate,” Charlotte took a sip and pulled the mouthpiece away from her mouth. To the older woman she said, “They’re out. They’re fine.”  
  
“Is that Bobby?”  
  
“Nope. Ellen.”

“You’re at the Roadhouse?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Yeah, hey Sam, I’m glad to hear you two aren’t in the evil hands of the Government.”

He laughed and she could hear Dean asking him what she’d just said. “Yeah, catch you in a few.”  
  
“Laters,”and she hung up. She retook her beer and nodded to Ellen. “Well they’re definitely okay.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“Yeah,” she took a mindless sip and let her eyes focus on a knot in the woodwork on the bar top.

“Charlotte?” She raised her head with curious eyes. The older woman was looking at her weirdly. “You okay?”

It took her a few seconds to reply. Was she? John had gotten Bill Harvelle killed hunting the same thing he’d hunted with her Dad. She wanted to know exactly what had actually happened and how many times John covered up his cases with lies.

She settled for nodding. There was no point in telling anybody anything that was going on in her mind yet. She had nothing but circumstantial finger pointing. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Good. You know I’m not mad at you for Jo hunting right?”

That reared her head up. “What?”

Ellen smirked. “I know that’s why you haven’t been here. Afraid I’ll yell at you. Hell I was. I cursed you, the Winchester’s, even Bobby.” She shrugged. “End of the day I realized I couldn’t have stopped Jo altogether.”

Charlotte nodded. “You know she’s not all that bad a hunter.”

Ellen let a soft smile finally take hold. “She told me how you helped her with a Revenant.”

The younger woman laughed. “Yeah well, I also had a chat about how every hunt could be your last. She decided to let me ramble for a while before she told me she called for an extra hand.”

Ellen let a single chuckle out. “She’s like that.”

Charlotte nodded and silence descended upon them. After a few quiet sips she eyed the older woman with a gentle gaze. “She’ll be fine. You know that right?”

It took Ellen a few seconds to reply this time. In the end she nodded. “I know. But every mother worries about her daughter.”

Charlotte ground her teeth together with a nod. She’d been trying to find out as much as she could about her own Mother and why, when the woman had died when Charlotte was five and a half, why she couldn’t remember anything other than a few days of school and happy smiles dwarfed with sadness. “Yeah,” she said, “I don’t doubt that for a second.”


	50. 1982 - November

_Montana – Shelby_

He waited and listened. All day the parents had been awake, fussing and muttering and fussing. Worry had been bright in their house and he had waited and listened.

“ _Do you think that’s normal?”_

_A laugh. “I think she’s going to be a smart girl at school.”_

“ _You think so?”_

“ _Yeah. And pretty. She looks just like you.”_

“ _Oh Peter. Well, maybe she’ll have your attitude, it’s impossible for that unstoppable nature of yours to be stopped.”_

_He laughed and kissed her temple. “Come on, she’s asleep now.”_

_She nodded. “Okay,” and she leaned into the crib to place a gentle kiss to the child’s head. “Goodnight Charlotte.”_

He watched as the nursery’s light was flicked out and he listened some more. The two parents moved into the master bedroom, pushed the door to and whispered for several minutes. The minutes turned into hours and he waited.

Patience. It kept him grounded with the prospect of a hopeful endeavour. Just a few minutes would be all he needed, but it would be enough.

A ringing in his ears was drowned out with a mild flick of concentration. The voices could wait. This couldn’t. Two hours and twenty seven minutes passed before he heard the parents drop off into sleep. But he waited, gave them another ten minutes before he imagined the room in which the child was in. He closed his eyes, thought, opened them and smiled at the dark space that encircled him.

By the window in a wooden crib, surrounded by a couple of stuffed animals and with a white blanket covering her stomach and legs, was Charlotte. He stepped lightly towards the crib and let his hands grip the wooden frame. When he peered into the crib he smiled.

She batted two blue eyes open and stared up at him in silent curiosity. “Hello,” he whispered.  
  
She blinked up at him and he let out a tiny laugh. It seemed like she was studying him, trying to figure out who this strange man standing over her was. Then she made a noise, wriggled in her spot and waved her arms about in wildness.

The smile didn’t disappear from his face.

“Come here,” he muttered as he dipped his hands underneath her, one hand behind her neck and the other curled up beneath her. He lifted her out and placed her next to his chest. All the while he listened for her parents. They were still sleeping.

She wriggled in his arms for a few seconds before she settled and blinked sleepily up at him. “Hey there,” he muttered with a grin. “Charlotte. That’s a lovely name.” She blinked and he almost thought it was in agreement. “You don’t know me,” he said and a frown started on his features. “I shouldn’t even be here.”

There was a voice in his ear, nagging and he shook it away. “I don’t care.” And he walked in slow measured circles around the room, rocking her gently in his arms. “You’re beautiful, just like your mother.” And the grin was back on his face.

He stopped by the open door to listen. They were still asleep and he continued to walk. “You might not see me, but for as long as I can I’ll be there. Watching over you.” She made a noise and closed her eyes. His grin grew, if that was even possible. “Yeah, I’ll be here. You just shout and I’ll come running. I mean it.”

Another noise escaped her and he stopped by her crib to watch the seven month old child drift back off to sleep. “No matter what happens, I’ll be there and I will come to you.” He listened. Still asleep. And he slowly leaned back down into the crib to put the sleeping child down. She didn’t stir again and he watched her for several minutes.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

He froze and listened. The husband was still asleep and so was Charlotte. It was just him and the wife. “Helen,” he whispered as he turned around.

The woman stood in the doorway, her arms folded and eyes narrowed ever so slightly. She cast a look back down the hallway and stepped into the nursery. She pushed the door to and sighed. “You shouldn’t be here,” she repeated.  
  
“I wanted to.”

She pursed her lips and he let his hands settle by his sides. She shook her head and said, “You said it yourself, that you weren’t allowed to come back.”  
  
“I’ve thought on it and decided I wanted to.”

“You can’t.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“You told me why.”

He clamped his mouth shut. He was doing a hell of a lot of work right now to keep the others from finding out where he was and who these people were. “I just wanted to see her.”

“And now you’ve seen her.”

He nodded. “I’ll get going then.”

And he turned to give Charlotte one last look for a long, long time. She slept, blissfully unaware of what was going on two feet away from her. Blissfully unaware of what people were saying and the words they were casting.  
  
“Wait.”

When he looked back to Helen she was inches from him and then her hands were around his neck and holding onto him with a mighty grip. He smiled sadly and let his arms grab her back. He let his eyes close and nuzzled her neck with his nose. Part of him didn’t want to let go, ever. But another part told him there would be severe consequences if he didn’t.

Helen Walsh, now Dixon, was the best woman he’d ever met and he had to walk away from her and Charlotte for their own sake. “Helen,” he said and he tried to pull away.

“Just another minute,” she muttered and he allowed her her minute.

She released him and he looked at her with a soft smile. “Charlotte’s going to be a great person. She’s got a set of great parents.”  
  
Helen smiled and kissed his cheek. “Go,” she said and she took a step back.

He nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on her. I promise.”

The last image he had of Helen Dixon was a smile and nod, “I know you will,” before he disappeared back to his post with one ear listening out for that family.


	51. 2007 - March

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

Charlotte frowned into her phone. Sam had been missing for days and she’d been calling other Hunters and asking Ash to check out Police and Hospital records. But nothing had turned up and she and Bobby had been calling and nagging people for help. It was a week into the hunt when Dean called to tell her that he’d found Sam. There was an undertone of worry to his voice and she frowned into her phone. “What’s happened?”

“I don’t know. I’ll call you back.”

“Dean!” He hung up and she glared at her phone with a small growl. After several seconds of just staring at the device she scoffed, shook her head and shoved her phone into her pocket. Some days she could just slap that guy. His brother too. “Morons,” she muttered and she sighed and turned back to her Pontiac. They could figure it out themselves if Dean was just going to shut her out like that. When she had first built her car it had been built from whatever she could find in the abandoned cars in Bobby’s lot. Some of it would fit and the parts that wouldn’t she’d mingled and mixed until it worked.

It was coming back to bite her in the ass. Bobby had had to tow her car back in and several of the lines had just blown.

As the night moved on Bobby told her to call it quits for the night and to get her rest. She waved him off with a mutter, “I will! Just gimme five minutes!” After dealin with the exhaust systems she decided to give herself a break and call Dean. He didn’t pick up and she frowned, dialled Sam and was surprised when he answered straight away, “Hey Charlotte.”

She did a double take with furrowed brows. The man sounded perky. “Hey,” she started hesitantly, and she slowly started to make her way back inside the house, “Sam, erm,” she cleared her throat. “Where’s Dean?” _And where the fuck have you been?_

There was a noise in the background that quickly disappeared with a click. “Oh sleeping. You know how he gets.”

“Yeah, I do.” She nodded and let a yawn free and she ran a hand over her face. Charlotte locked the door behind her and made her way to her own bedroom, closing the door behind her and sitting down on the edge of the bed. Maybe Sam had needed a break from Dean and if they were talking again, well, the worry in her stomach settled just a little. Except for Sam's happy attitude, but she waved it off. She wanted to climb into bed and pass out until the middle of the next day. “Get him to call me when he wakes up.”

“Of course.”

“Where’ve you been anyway? Dean was ready to tear everything apart to find you.”

Sam chuckled down the line and Charlotte kicked off her shoes and pants, shoving the blanket from one side. “Little vacation.”

She frowned. “Without a word?” That didn't sound like Sam, unless he was desperate. Even then...

“I know, I’m sorry. My bad, I just, I needed a break from Dean and, everything. You know?”

She raised one brow and a small smile curled one corner of her mouth, “Yeah okay.” She yawned again and climbed into bed. “Get some sleep and no more secret vacations you hear me?”

Once more Sam chuckled, “Of course. Good night.” And the line ended.

When she woke up Bobby was already on the phone talking to other Hunters about jobs and help. She kissed his cheek and went back to her car, pulling her phone out on the way. Dean hadn’t called her yet and she frowned with a faint thought. She didn’t expect them to be reliable, hell ask them to come round one day they’d turn up five days after, side tracked by a hunt.

With a shake of her head she sent him a quick text and settled on going back to her car. As the day went on she went inside, grabbed food and a drink and went straight back to working on her car. It was the one thing she wanted, to have her vehicle up and running again.

As the night started to roll in radio rock started to join her and she nodded her head in time to the music, muttering the lyrics underneath her breath. “Cause I’m hot blooded,” she mumbled, “check it and see.”

A chuckle sounded behind her and she jerked, banged her head on the open hood of her car and pinched her eyes shut. “Sorry,” Sam said.

She turned with a half smirk and a frown. “Hey Sam.” Her eyes jumped to the space behind the tall Winchester for the smaller one. “Where’s Dean?”

There was an odd look to Sam’s face as he let another chuckle go. If Charlotte had to guess by the tight lipped mouth and the spark that didn’t reach his eyes, something was off. “Talking to Bobby, I figured I’d come say hi.”

Charlotte shrugged. “Fair enough,” she turned back to the engine and tried to work out where she was up to and to see which tools were close by. “So where’d you go anyway?”

“Huh?”

She quirked one brow over her shoulder, “For your little vacation?” She turned back to the engine and kept the wrench on the corner of her vision.

“Oh,” Sam took a step closer to lean on the tool bench, “Indianapolis.”

Charlotte whistled and bent forward into the engine of the car. She pulled at a few of the lines and narrowed her eyes. “What was in Indianapolis that couldn’t wait?”

“Oh you know, it was just away from Dean.”  
  
She nodded. Her phone started to vibrate in her pocket and she pulled it out to see Dean’s name. “Weird,” she muttered.

“What’s weird?”

Charlotte threw a look over her shoulder to mutter, “Dean’s calling me,” then she answered the call, leaning on the car with her eyes fixed on the engine. “Hey Dean.”

“Is Sammy with you?”

She frowned. “Of course but you’re just-” The rest of her words were lost as something heavy collided with the side of her head. It sent her falling to the ground, her phone skittering away from her.

“Charlotte?” Dean’s voice called through the handset. “Sammy. I swear to God you better not-” Sam stamped down upon the phone, breaking it into two. He curled a devilish smile across his lips and tilted his head to look down at the unconscious Charlotte by his feet, heavy duty wrench in hand.

_He watched, mouth pulled tight and hands curled into fists. He wanted to intervene, wanted to put a stop to this. It wasn’t good._

_With tense breaths he watched the taller of the brothers pull Charlotte up, throw her inside of her car and grab some cloth. Sam bound Charlotte’s hands to the open window frame, the door closed to prevent any other movement._

_He hated Demons. They were nothing but vile specks of dirt._

_For several seconds he ignored the whistling voices in his mind. He’d made a promise and needed to keep to it. Intervening, no matter how against his nature it should be, would be a must if the older brother, Dean, didn’t get here soon. The music was still playing so Bobby wouldn’t have heard a thing._

Charlotte awoke to the sound of AC/DC and groaned as she opened her eyes. Her head was killing her. As she tried to pull herself up she noticed that her hands were bound and frowned. Through the muddle of her mind she remembered somebody hitting over the head with something. But who? The only person who'd been around was Sam.

The tall brother in question turned from the front seat to the back and smiled sardonically down at her. "Sorry about that," he said, "sometimes I just have these, __urges__ that need to be filled."

Charlotte squirmed uncomfortably. "Where's Sam?"

He laughed. "I'm right here."

"Funny, where is he?"

The smile fell from Sam's face and his eyes turned black. "Well he is here, just not here at the same time." Sam shifted so that his full body was facing Charlotte, his arms supporting him on either front seat. "You know, it's funny the kind of things that he thinks. I mean, when you were young and you hated Dean-"

"Still do."

Sam seemed to deflate. "See he doesn't understand why? Why choose Dean if you hate him? Sam thought there would've been some hope that Dean wouldn't get himself with a girl that he liked for once. And then things happened, he was too chicken to make a move or say anything and then Dean just comes along and... well, we all know the rest."

Charlotte had her legs free and managed to pull herself up into a sitting position. "Listen to me you sack of lying shit. You are not going to be in there much longer."

Sam laughed and settled back into the driver's seat. "Oh I think I will. You see, Dean can't bring himself to kill his little brother. You wouldn't be able to kill him either and no other hunter would be expecting Sam to turn up and kill them."

"Someone will put you down."

"Not without hurting, Sam."

"Yeah, they will."

Sam turned a glare onto her and jumped into the back seat with her. "Tell me," he said, "you ever learn what did happen to Daddy? You see, we demons, we know things. And I know what happened that night." Sam laughed and Charlotte eyed the knife that was idly being fiddled between his fingers. "John Winchester, he'd already been hunting those pack of Hellspawns he took your Daddy to. He knew they'd be on look out and yet, he took him anyway. Set him up as bait to save his own skin and before you know it, your Daddy's holding his throat whilst my Daddy finishes off the pack." Silence. Charlotte glared. Demons lied, that's what she told herself. They lied all the time to get underneath people's skin. Sam's voice lowered to a whisper as he inched closer towards her, his body hovering over hers. "And bang. My Daddy shot your Daddy. Put him down like some sort of sick dog and burnt his body so you'd never know."

Charlotte brought her knee up, struck it between his legs and Sam winced, falling on top of her slightly from the shock. It took him several seconds to lift his head back up to glare at Charlotte. He struck a fist to the side of her head and it snapped it to one side. She stretched her eyes open to try to stave off the pain. "You shouldn't have done that," he said.

__He looked on with worry mounting on his face. Where was the other Winchester?_ _

He struck her head again, harder this time, and her eyes closed as she sunk in her seat. Sam just gave her a look before he climbed out of the car, slammed the door shut and took a deep breath. His eyes found the house and he smirked. Tilting his head from one side to the other he began to walk towards the house.

A presence behind him made him frown and turn. The figure that stood there had panic stretching over his face. "Who are you?"

The man just narrowed his eyes at Sam, stepped forward and Sam stepped back. He disappeared and Sam turned to see the man behind him. The strangers hands grabbed his arm and pulled the sleeve up to reveal a burnt mark. Sam tried to pull back, throwing a punch to the man's face. He released Sam from the shock and Sam sent a few more strikes in his direction before he grabbed an arm, threw the taller man into the car and strode across the space with purpose. He grabbed the arm, let his hand rest on the burn mark and held on tight. A few seconds passed and Sam groaned. The other hand of his was brought up to rest on his head and he closed his eyes.

Black smoke was forced out of Sam's body and he watched it disappear into the ground before he released an unconscious Sam Winchester.

"Who the fuck are you?"

He turned to face Dean and Bobby and to find two guns trained on him. "A friend," and he disappeared.


	52. 2007 - March part 2

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

Dean stared. And stared. And stared at the empty spot the strange man had just been stood at. Was he some kind of Demon? In all his years of hunting and hearing the stories other Hunters bragged about, none told of a Demon exorcising another Demon from a human host with one touch. And ‘a friend’? What the fuck did that mean?

Sam stirred and Dean’s thoughts went straight to worry. His eyes snapped down to Sam and he dropped to his knees by his side, gun abandoned in favour of grabbing Sam's shoulders and trying to pull his attention up to him. “Sammy? Sam? You okay? Talk to me?”

Sam flicked hazel eyes open, pinched them shut and snapped them back open with a deep breath to stare back up at Dean with a slurred, “Dean?”

“Sam,” Dean let out a happy laugh and wrapped his arms around his brothers shoulders and held him close. The pain in his shoulder sung but he ignored it for now, Sam was alive and well. He had his little brother back and that was all that mattered. The sound of a car door creaking open attracted his attention and he cursed internally. Charlotte.  
  
“Dean, I’m sorry, I- I-”  
  
“It wasn’t you Sammy.”

Sam sat up and pushed his Dean's hands away from him and sighed. “Dean, I was awake for some of it. I,” he paused and his face fell.

Dean frowned and wondered what it was that Sam was leaving out. “Sam?” he whispered, his hands still on his shoulders.

Sam turned to eye Bobby cradling an unconscious Charlotte. “Charlotte,” he muttered. Bobby turned to them both, a slight glare in Sam’s direction and Sam gulped. “Is she okay?”

“She’s alive if that’s what your askin’,” Bobby snapped.

“Bobby,” Dean and Sam said together. Sam was the one to carry on, “I’m sorry, I-”

The older man sighed, shook his head and pulled the unconscious girl into his arms. “I’ll be inside with the first aid kit,” he muttered tiredly and he disappeared from sight.

Silence descended on the both of them and Dean turned uncertain eyes onto his brother. Sam shook his head and started to ramble. “I tried to stop Meg, believe me, please, I tried. I begged her Dean to not hurt her, or Jo or you. I tried but I-”

There was a lump in Dean’s throat and he was fighting to swallow it as he said, “I know. I know.” Silence came back and Dean broke it with a sigh. He let his arms drop from Sam's shoulders, grabbed his gun and pulled himself up to his feet. He held a hand out to Sam, helping him to his feet with a wince from both of them. “She knows,” Dean said with a nod, “she knows.” Sam nodded once, his face telling Dean clearly that he didn't believe him. Sam shifted his weight on his feet and Dean watched him frown, wince and screw his face up with one hand around his stomach. Panic started to flare in Dean's mind again and he quickly uttered, “What?”

“Charlotte kicked me.”

Dean frowned. “Where?” Sam gave him a look and Dean couldn’t help the smirk that started to spread after the slight wince. “To be fair you were possessed by Meg.”

“So that makes it alright does it?”  
  
“Well…”

“What if she kicked you there?”

Dean frowned and tilted his head in thought. “She probably already has.”

It was Sam's turn to frown, “What?”

“What?”

“Really?”

Dean shrugged. “I piss her off a lot.”

Sam rolled his eyes and started to limp back to the house, holding a hand to his head. “Who was that guy anyway?”

“Beats me.” Bobby was nowhere in sight and Dean let his gun fall onto the kitchen table. “Get some rest Sammy.”

“What about your shoulder?”

Dean just shook his head, told him Jo had fixed it up and told him to rest before he knocked his brother out himself. Sam had held his hands up, muttered another apology to his brother and disappeared up the stairs to the spare room.

Dean grabbed himself a beer and drank it in the silence of the house. He would check in on Charlotte in a few, he wanted some time to take everything in and to sort it out in his own mind. With a groan he gave his injured shoulder a roll and pinched his eyes shut. If Sam had been possessed so easily then they would need to do something to counter that in the future. A warding of some kind, something that they could keep on them no matter what. He sighed and finished off the bottle. At least nobody had died, he would take that over anything.  
  
Footsteps caught his attention and he turned to see Bobby with his shoulders slumped. “She’s gonna be cranky when she wakes up.”

“When isn’t she cranky?”

Bobby couldn’t help the chuckle at that and Dean smirked. “Any idea who that guy was?”

Dean shrugged. “‘A friend’ according to him.”  
  
“You believe that?”

Dean nodded his head to one side and took a seat at the small desk in the kitchen. “Sammy’s alive and de-Megged. He didn’t attack us,” he shrugged, “I’d say for now, we call him a friend.”

Bobby narrowed his eyes. “What if it’s a Demon?”  
  
“Then we’ll put him down.” Bobby nodded and the familiar silence was back once more. “How is Charlotte anyway? She gonna be okay?”

Bobby sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “She’s breathing, could barely make a sentence and couldn't open her eyes. She did kick up a fuss about Sam not to be blamed.” Dean couldn’t help his smirk. Charlotte treated Sam like her brother and as though it was her job to look out for him, if the last twenty years were anything to go by. “She’ll have a headache and some bruising but, better than dead I suppose.” Dean stared at the older man who noticed the look and sighed. “I don’t blame Sam alright. Just pissed is all.”

Dean nodded and dropped his eyes. “It could’ve happened to any of us.”

“Yeah. Look, get some rest Dean. You look like hell.”

He snorted. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah.” And he waved a hand in Dean’s vague direction before he disappeared back up the stairs. Dean gave it a few minutes before he locked the doors, turned off the lights and followed Bobby up the stairs. He stopped outside Charlotte’s room, grabbed the handle, closed his eyes and listened. Bobby was shuffling around in his room, he couldn’t hear Sam and nothing from the room in front of him. With a sigh he gently turned the handle and pushed himself into the dark room.

There was a faint noise from the bed and Dean quietly shut the door, kicked off his shoes, jacket and jeans and sat on the edge of her bed. “Mm,” Charlotte muttered and Dean felt a smirk lift the corners of his mouth. He turned to look at her and frowned when he finally managed to take in her features, the light from the lamp outside giving him enough light to see what was wrong. She was facing him, her face screwed up and her hands clutching at the cover and underside of her pillow. He lifted his side of the cover, slid himself in and tucked one hand under his head, his eyes fixed on her. In the dark of the room it was hard to make out any bruises or cuts, but he knew in the morning it would look a lot worse.

He sighed, shuffled closer and laid his free hand on the one that was screwed up in the cover. He pushed his fingers between hers and squeezed. She squeezed with him and after a few moments it loosened and her eyes blinked steadily open. “Hmm?”

He smiled. “Hey you.”

“Dean,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

“Yeah.”

She closed her eyes, shuffled her nose into her pillow and held on tighter to his hand. “You ‘kay?” she slurred quietly.

“Yeah. You?”  
  
“I’ll live.”  
  
“Good.”  
  
“Good.”

Nothing more was said and Dean waited a few seconds and listened. Her breathing had evened out and he guessed she was sleeping again. With a smile on his face he closed his eyes, brought her hand up to his lips and kissed them before he settled himself in for sleep. They could talk tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try to update this regularly, every Monday and Friday, because I want this series to be caught up to the one on FF.net. I hope you enjoyed this little teaser mystery for the future.


	53. 2007 - March part 3

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

The warm water soothed her sore head and aching face. It stung as the droplets caught the small cuts that stained her skin, but she accepted this for the satisfaction the shower left her with. Charlotte had woken up wanting to know what had happened and Dean had filled her in with information about Meg, the symbol on Sam’s arm and the mysterious man who appeared, fixed Sam and disappeared. That had made her frown and wonder, questions buzzing around her head as she grabbed a change of clothes for the bathroom.

She turned the water off, stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself. She lifted a hand to wipe the steam off the mirror so she could see her reflection. Her right eye was still swollen, a horrendous red line covered her cheek still let a few watery trickles of red shiver down her face. Her lip was split and her head just ached so much that she wanted to go back to bed.

With a sigh she worked on towelling herself off and getting dressed, rubbing her hair between the folds of the towel as she left the bathroom. She could hear voices downstairs and closed her eyes as she reached her room. In all honesty she could curl up and sleep for the next week. Instead she shoved her dirty clothes into the basket, draped the towel over the corner of her door and grabbed some tissues to wipe at her face. Smears of red came away and she sighed again.

After a few more wipes she dropped the tissues into the bin, shoved her feet into her shoes and started to make her way downstairs. Sam, Dean and Bobby were talking to one another and the conversation stopped when she entered. She rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t stop on account of me.”

“How ya feeling kiddo?” Bobby asked.

She shrugged and moved into the kitchen, opening and closing drawers until she found some pain killers, “I’ll be fine. How are you Sam?”

He cleared his throat before he spoke, “I’m okay.” She heard footsteps approach her as she grabbed a cup of water and chucked back the tablets and a large mouthful. “Charlotte,” she turned to see Sam looking ashamed. “I’m sorry,” he said, “for whatever I did, I’m sorry. I mean-”

“Sam stop,” she said and she sighed, “I’m fine. It wasn’t you and on a good day you’d do anything to take it all back. So shut up. Okay?”

He pinched his mouth shut, frowned and nodded. She did not want to argue today. “Okay.”

She nodded and put the cup in the sink, “I’ll be outside if anybody needs me,” she said and she stepped into the salvage yard to stare at her unfinished work from last night. Questions about the strange guy started to pop up in her mind and she frowned as she grabbed a wrench and sighed, her hands grabbing the edge of the car. Her head still hurt and she knew it would be hard to concentrate and work, but she wanted to do it, needed to keep herself busy otherwise she was going to become irritated.

Charlotte closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. The dull ache at the back of her mind was irritating her and part of her wished she’d stayed in bed. She opened her eyes again, eyed the engine and sighed. The wrench was thrown onto the work bench, she opened the driver’s side door and sat down in the seat, closing the door shut with a wince. She leaned back in the seat, closed her eyes and relaxed with a light breeze from the open window blowing soft cold touches to her hot skin.

Eventually she managed to fall into a light slumber and she shuffled in her seat as she fell deeper into the world of dreams.

_She was back in Shelby, her Mother’s grave staring up at her. The rain was heavy and the winds were strong as thunder curled in the clouds and lightning lit up the sky. Water rushed down her face and her attention was caught on the drops that fell off the end of her nose and hit the ground with a tiny splash, its sound lost in the cacophony that was going on around her._

“ _Mum,” she whispered, “I miss you.”_

“ _If I could,” Charlotte turned in the direction of the voice to see a woman, wearing a red dress with curled blonde hair being battered by the winds, “I would take you away from everything.”_

“ _Mum?”_

_Helen nodded. “You are safe.”_

_Tears pricked the corners of Charlotte’s eyes, the salty mixture mingling with raindrops on her cheeks. “It doesn’t feel like it.”_

_Helen chuckled and took a step closer. “You are safer than you could ever imagine.” She stopped in front of Charlotte and titled her head to one side. A hand reached up and pushed wet strands of brown hair behind her ears. It was strangely warm against her skin and Charlotte leaned into the hand. “You’re being looked out for. Trust me.”_

_The tears couldn’t be controlled and Charlotte grabbed her mother’s hand. “Don’t go,” she whispered._

_Lightning struck a tree behind Helen and the flash of light illuminated a figure, shrouded in the shadows of the trees. Charlotte frowned at the figure and it was her mother’s hand that drew her attention away from it. “Be strong, you have a wonderful family around you.”_

_Charlotte let out a crude laugh. “Yeah and a crappy life to go with it.”_

“ _Circumstances cannot be helped.”_

_She dropped her hand and Charlotte reached out for it, “Don’t go,” she said and her hands fell through her mother’s hand. She froze and stared at the pale hand, slowly lifting her gaze to the sad face that stared back. Charlotte shook her head. “No, don’t, please, don’t.”_

“ _I have to.”_

“ _No,” the tears flooded her eyes and smeared the image before her._

“ _Someone is looking out for you. I promise you.”_

_Another roar of thunder and her mother disappeared from sight. Her knees buckled and she let the tears take control, shaking her shoulders and her chest with wavering breaths. Lightning lit up the sky and the silhouette appeared again. There was nothing definitive about him apart from that that was all she could make out, that it was a guy. “Who are you?”_

_There was silence except but the pouring rain. “Who are you?”_

Thunder struck again and her eyes snapped open to see the hood of her car through the windscreen. She took a couple of deep breaths, ran her hands over her face and sighed, letting her head fall back onto the headrest. The dream was stuck in her head, stuck on repeat and every detail was engraved into her mind. She replayed it all and tried to pick up on anything else, tried to find something that meant anything.

Dean’s sudden appearance distracted her and she turned her head up at him through the window. He folded his arms onto the open window and ducked his head in. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

He nodded and turned his eyes to the open hood of the car. “You know,” he was looking back at her, “a bed’s comfier.”

She let the corner of her mouth curl up and narrowed her eyes at him. “Yeah. I might just go back to bed.”

He pointed to her eye, “How’s that anyway?”

“It’ll heal,” she pushed on the door and Dean backed away. Charlotte pulled herself out and closed the door once more. “You and Sam sticking around for a while or have you two fond yourself a hunt?”

“Erm,” he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat and walked with her back to the house, “Well we’ve already found a couple of hopeful hunts so, we were thinking of giving you and Bobby some space.”

Charlotte grabbed his arm and stopped walking, pulling him back, “You don’t have to go you know.”

He nodded, “I know. But we figured you need your rest so,” and he shrugged.  
  
She smiled and tugged on his arm, forcing him to take a step closer. He smiled back and she pressed her mouth to his. It started soft, a simple touch that developed into Dean grabbing her waist and pulling her flush against him. Charlotte draped her arms over his shoulders and grinned as they kissed deeper. When they pulled apart she grinned and blinked at him, “I’ve missed that.”

“Me too.”

“Do you really have to go?”

He stared for all of three seconds before he shook his head, “One night couldn’t hurt.”

She grinned and pulled him back in for another kiss.


	54. 2007 - April

_Indiana – Clarksville_

Charlotte sighed into her glass of beer. Nobody was giving her any help about the missing men. Over the past six days five men had disappeared. Whilst none of them weren’t exactly stand up gentlemen, their deaths had been strange. All of their bodies appeared to have just stopped working, as though they'd been switched off. There were no diseases, wounds or blood loss, just a lack of a heart beat and one interesting fact: all five men had had sex just before their death. If that little tidbit hadn't struck her as strange, she didn't know what else did.

The bar was a small thing with a couple of pool tables lined against one side, men and women laughing and drinking together. She’d grabbed a seat at the bar, suit jacket thrown over the bar top in a neat pile. She tapped her finger on the side of her glass and tried to think of a new lead. They’d had sex with the same woman, but she wasn’t in any database according to the police. CCTV didn’t show anything and eye witnesses statements all contradicted one another. She was blonde with brown eyes and a small figure. She was a red head who towered over the average man with blue eyes. Brown hair, green eyes, lots of flesh. Blonde hair, blue eyes, all wrapped up and quiet.

She fixed her eyes on her drink and frowned into the liquid, racking her mind for anything. Out of all of the books she’d read or glanced over, nothing was giving her a hand.

Over the sound of the music she heard the faint sound of her ring tone and let go of her drink to fish out her phone from her pocket, Sam’s name glaring at her. Worry started to flutter around her mind, “Sam, everything okay?”

“No, actually it’s not.”

She frowned. Sam sounded pissed. After a pause she sighed and rolled her eyes, “What’s Dean done now?”

“How about he froze my laptop on Busty Asian Beauties.” Charlotte snickered. She couldn’t help it but Dean did have some weird hard on for the Asian ladies. “It’s not funny.”

“Okay, okay, put him on.”

It took her several seconds to quell the bubbling giggles. Of course if Dean had to make Sam’s laptop freeze on anything it would be porn. “Hello?”

She cleared her throat, settled her expression and said, “Stop watching porn on Sam’s laptop.”

“I wasn’t!”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Busty Asian Beauties? Dean that is so you.”

“Okay, well it wasn’t me this time,” there was annoyance growing in the older Winchester’s voice, “and has he told you about how somebody let air out the Impala’s tyres and guess who’s money clip I found? His!”

“I did not touch the car Dean!”

“And I didn’t touch your laptop!”

Charlotte pulled her ear away from the phone as the brothers shouted and argued with one another. “Well somebody must’ve and nobody else has the key to the room!”

“Well it wasn’t me.”

She sighed and ended the call, her fingers scrolling through the names in her contact list before Dean’s appeared. She dialled and he answered, “Grow up,” she muttered. The previously empty seat next to her became filled with a blonde haired woman with a low cut blue shirt and a denim skirt that stopped mid-thigh. Charlotte cast her a look and received a smile in return. “What are you two up to anyway?”

“I’m sorry,” the woman whispered and she nodded her head to a table behind them where three men were eyeing her up and giving Charlotte a look too, “but I needed to get away from them. I told them that my girlfriend was waiting at the bar for me.” And she laid a hand on Charlotte’s knee and gave a light squeeze.

“Girlfriend?”

Charlotte couldn’t move her eyes from the woman, there was just something about her that pulled her in. So when Dean repeated his one word question she stuttered. “Erm, it’s just, she, I-”

The woman chuckled, removed her hand and turned to the bar, “Two beers please. The name’s Annie.”

“Annie,” Charlotte smirked, her thoughts of Dean and Sam slowly disappearing, “it’s a nice name.”

She chuckled again and gave a single shake of her head. “This is the part where you tell me your name.”

“Who’s Annie?”

“Emma.”  
  
“Charlotte?”

“Well Emma,” Annie smiled and there was something about that smile and the twinkle in the green eyes that drew Charlotte in deeper, “thank you for helping me escape those vultures.”

“Yeah, sure, no erm, no problem.”

“Who the hell is Annie?”

Charlotte turned her attention to her almost finished drink and eyed Annie out of the corner of her eye. “I got to go.”

“Wait a minute-”  
  
“Don’t kill each other,” she muttered and she hung up, shoved her phone into the pocket of her jacket and grabbed her previous beer with a frown. “Annie,” Charlotte started.

“Yes?” Charlotte opened her mouth, closed it, turned her attention to the other woman and opened her mouth once more. “Is everything okay?”

It took her a few moments to not stare and she cleared her throat and focused on the fresh drink that appeared before her. “Yeah, just not used to beautiful women buying me drinks.”

Annie gave another chuckle and it was a sweet sound that Charlotte could stand to hear a little more. Something fluttered in her stomach and she found herself inching closer to Annie. “Why not? They should buy you drinks more often.” And she leaned in to whisper, “why don’t we grab a table, somewhere in the corner where nobody will see us.”

Her heart hammered and her mouth dried up. Something had her following the nicely curved ass that jumped down from the bar stool and sashayed to the free table in the corner. It was heavily shadowed and provided enough seclusion to keep them hidden for several hours. There was a tugging on her body that pulled her off her stool, grabbed her jacket and beer and followed with nothing but the thought of Annie in her mind.

A buzzing in her jacket distracted her enough to answer it to Dean, “Who the hell is Annie?”

“A hot blonde with long legs,” she trailed off as she eyed the woman in question.

“Okay and what are you doing with her?”

“I might spend the night with her.”

There was a pause, “You, you, you might spend the night?”

“A hot woman who is offering herself up, I’m not going to pass that up."

“You, you and, and,” he paused, took a breath and Charlotte grinned, “You going to sleep with a woman?”

“Maybe, now behave, both of you.” And she hung up, shoved her phone back into the jacket and slid into the booth with Annie. “Sorry about that,” she said with a smile.

“Old friend?”  
  
“Yeah, he and his brother sometimes get into it and need somebody to referee.”

She laughed, “I know exactly what you mean.” Silence emanated between them and in that silence Charlotte let her mind wander. No woman had ever made her pull away from a bar and from a conversation with Dean so fast. There was something off about the way she smiled with ease and the way she only had to flutter her eyes with innocence and Charlotte’s heart pounded that little bit harder. A rushing of blood between her ears was working on drowning out the rest of the bar and forcing her to focus on the woman in front of her. “Can I ask you something?”

Charlotte nodded, “Sure,” and she took a sip of the beer Annie had bought her.

“You’re not from around here are you?”

Annie’s hand came to a rest from playing with a loose strand of hair to Charlotte’s free hand that rested on the table top. Something pulled for her to speak, “No, I’m not.”  
  
“Are you a cop? I love cops. There are many things you can do with a pair of hand cuffs.”

The mischievous look had Charlotte’s mouth running dry and her mind running wild. “I’m sure there is.” She grabbed the beer, took a large gulp and settled the glass onto the table. “I’m looking into the murder of those five men, you know, the ones that just died.”  
  
“Oh I heard about that. So sad.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, eyed the hand that remained over hers.

“What have you found out?”

As much as she knew she shouldn’t talk about it, about the murders to a complete stranger and about the possible supernatural creature behind them, she did. “They all had sex just before they died, with the same woman.” She wanted to close her mouth but a certain lull had her speaking before she could think about it, “I’m not really a cop you see, but I look into strange deaths, like these guys, who seem to have just stopped living. Organs and brains intact, their blood safely inside their bodies, it’s like their life just stopped.” Charlotte sighed, there was a stroke of fingers along the inside of her wrist and she was opening her mouth again, “It’s not a vampire or any kind of vengeful spirit. I mean, there’s a lot of things it isn’t and a whole lot nothing that it is.”

“Vampires? Vengeful spirits? They’re not real.”

Another stroke. “They are, people just don’t want to pay attention to those strange deaths that could be animals but realistically aren’t.” She clamped her mouth shut and frowned at Annie. “Why am I telling you this?”

Annie smirked, stood and took a seat next to Charlotte. She pulled the hand off the beer and interlinked her fingers with Charlotte’s. Her mouth inched closer to her ear and Annie whispered, “Because you want to tell somebody.” And her teeth caught the spot just underneath her ear, the spot that Dean always teased whenever he’d grabbed her from behind. The touch had her closing her eyes as Annie’s other hand gripped itself around her thigh. Her mouth found Charlotte’s jaw and the hunter let out a light sigh of comfort. “We should go back to your place.”

Blue eyes snapped open and Charlotte reared her head back. “I, I shouldn’t. You’re,” she frowned. Words were having a hard time reaching her tongue.

Annie grinned, pressed her mouth to Charlotte’s and pressed on hard. It took a few seconds for Charlotte to react but when she did it was with a stomach of lust she’d never had before. She’d never wanted Dean or any other man or woman this way before. She took a hold of the collar of Annie’s shirt and pulled her further into the kiss. When they pulled apart there was a light film over Charlotte’s eyes and Annie trailed her mouth to her ear to whisper, “Let’s go back to your place.”

Charlotte could only nod as she followed behind Annie up and out of the bar, into her car and back to her place. The moment she had the door open Annie had planted herself on her, slamming the door shut with one stray hand as Charlotte fisted her hands into her long locks of blonde. Several seconds of mouth bashing against the wall passed before Charlotte was able to pull her mouth away to frown down at Annie, “Who the hell are you?”

Annie only chuckled, pressed her body to Charlotte’s and trailed hot fingers down the side of her neck and over her collar bone. The finger trailed hotly down the centre of her chest, pulling the buttons that kept her shirt in place. “Somebody who wants you, who needs you, right now.”

And her mouth was back. Charlotte groaned into the touch. As Annie’s mouth trailed down she pushed her head back against the wall, eyes staring up at the ceiling with a frown. Men. Sex. Woman. Undeniable urge to have sex with Annie. To talk. Strange. Off. She frowned and pushed Annie's arms away from her and shook her head the moment her lips were free. She stared at Annie, her mind muddled with a fog that was too heavy to sift through. “This isn't right,” she whispered.

“Shhh,” Annie whispered, and before Charlotte knew it there was a finger on her lips and she was staring at Annie with wide eyes. Her other hand came up to stroke Charlotte's cheek and she hushed her again. “It'll be fine. Just a little bit of pleasure, some fun. Don't you want to relax for a little while?”

Something soothing and warm washed over Charlotte and she nodded her head with a quiet murmur of, “Yeah.”

Annie smiled widely at Charlotte, let go of her and slowly stepped back. Charlotte followed her with her eyes, a faint buzzing in the background of her mind being dismissed as Annie sat on the edge of the bed and made a 'come here' gesture with her finger. Charlotte swallowed and closed the space between them to plant her knees on either side of Annie's legs, grab her face and kiss her hard with a low moan.

Annie pulled her back onto the bed and Charlotte hovered over her, catching her lips with her teeth before something in her mind jerked and she blinked down at Annie. This was wrong. She felt as though she was in a daze and Annie lifted a hand and stroked her face, “What's the matter?”

Another wave of warmth flooded Charlotte's system and she closed her eyes. She didn't want to sleep with her. She didn't. It was a ruse, a lie but why? What was.... Succubi?

“Nothing,” Charlotte whispered as she continued to stare down at Annie. It made sense, have sex with the men, zap them of their life and move on to the next one. Annie's hand stroking her face made her shiver and close her eyes again. She reached up to grab that wrist and pinned it to the bed, her heart racing and her mind trying to think about the situation that she was in.

“Emma?” Annie started.

Charlotte plastered a grin onto her face and leaned down to peck Annie's lips. “You wanted to try the handcuffs right?”

Annie's face relaxed at that comment and Charlotte willed her mind to stop following the pull in her stomach. “Where are they?”

“In my bag, be right back,” she winked and scrambled to the side of the bed. The fog on her brain lifted, slightly, at least it made it easier for her to breathe, until there was a hand running light fingers down her chest and Charlotte groaned. “You're killing me,” she whispered, earning a chuckle from Annie.

“I just can't wait.”

Charlotte rummaged in the bag by the side of her bed and tried to do it blind, fingers brushing over bottles of ingredients, guns, weapons, until she found a silver knife she kept in there. She grabbed the handle and turned her head with a grin. With her other hand she cupped the back of Annie's head and pulled her in for another kiss. She groaned into the kiss and her fingers almost let go of the knife. She could feel her muscles fighting with her as she pulled it out and she grunted as she won the fight, brought her arm far enough up to push the blade through Annie's stomach.

Charlotte blinked as the fog in her mind disappeared and she watched Annie's face twist into pain. Her eyes gave a ghostly white shimmer before a whisper of white smoke blew from her lips and she slumped on top of Charlotte, dead.

Charlotte groaned and pushed the body off of her before she rolled off the bed and gave herself a pat down, making sure she was still in one piece. Her phone was still buzzing and she stomped over to her jacket, pulled her phone out and answered it with a, “Yes?”

It was Sam who gave a scoff, “Dean went off on talking about you being with a girl.”

Charlotte raised her brows and glanced back over to the bed. “And you interrupted a perfectly good date,” she teased before she sighed. “You two done fighting now?”

Sam chuckled and she could feel the shrug of his shoulders in his next words, “Yeah. Bobby came just after we called you. Turns out it was a Trickster.”

Charlotte raised her brows with a smile and started to pack her things up. “Nice.”

“I'll let Dean know you're finished.”

She rolled her eyes with a sarcastic mutter of, “Thanks Sam.” A few moments later her phone rang again and she shook her head at Dean's name, “So, a Trickster huh?”

“Annie huh?”

Charlotte grinned and moved into the bathroom to grab a few of her things. “Yeah, I er, I don't think it's going to work out between us.”

There was silence for a moment before Dean, “'Us' us or Annie 'us'.”

“Annie 'us'. Being a dead Succubi kinda puts a damper on the mood.”

“Suc- Succubi?”

Charlotte chuckled and nodded her head. “Yeah, real shame too because it was fun until, you know, the killing part.”

There was another moment of silence before Dean said, “So, you've, you've slept with women before?”

She raised a brow and nodded her head once, “Yes. And?”

“Just, you never, I mean.... how many?”

Charlotte laughed again and shook her head, “Next time Dean. See you around.”

“Come on, you can't leave-”

“Bye Dean!” She hung up with a grin on her face and quickly worked on cleaning up the room before she left the key in the door and left.


	55. 2007 - April part 2

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

Charlotte grumbled into the engine. “Stupid piece of crap,” she muttered. The engine, once more, had broken down on her. Bobby had said he would order the correct parts for it and she'd nodded her head and mumbled thanks before she decided to see what was available to use in the salvage yard.

Charlotte sighed as she pulled the spark plugs out, two of them were burnt out and a third didn’t look too good. She put them on the bench and grabbed a rag to wipe her greasy hands as she looked over the rest of the engine. Mentally she tried to recall which cars would still have working spark plugs and which ones would match her Pontiac. A few cars came to mind and she grabbed a socket wrench along with a set of pliers and moved throughout the yard.

Thirty minutes of hunting, pulling, screwing and twisting later she held three new spark plugs in her hands. When she reached the open hood of her car again she noticed a fresh bottle of cold beer perched on the edge of the car. She raised one brow and grabbed the bottle, sipped with a hum at the cool liquid inside and put it back. Maybe Bobby had dropped it off for her.

Then a pair of arms wrapped themselves around her waist, making her start and reach out to grab her car before she was drawn back against a warm chest. A set of lips were pressed behind her ear and she relaxed into the touch with a warm smile. “Dean,” she whispered, turning her head slightly to get a glimpse of him.

“Miss me?” he teased.

She laughed, “Ha. As if.” She tried to pull herself free but failed. “Dean let go.”

He just pulled her a little tighter and her smile started to fall. Something had happened. Charlotte twisted in Dean's arms and grabbed his shoulders as she studied his blank expression. “Dean,” she muttered, eyes softening.

“What?”

“What happened?”

It took several seconds for him to say anything, or move, but when he did he sighed, pulled her closer against his chest and laid his chin in the crook between her shoulder and neck. “It was bad.”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held on. “Talk to me,” she whispered in his ear.

He shook his head and just held on a little bit tighter. “Not yet.”

“Okay,” and she let him hold on.

As the minutes ticked by she felt him loosen his grip, his arms falling to her hips before his hands held her there and he lifted his face. There was a fallen look that Charlotte hadn’t seen in a long time. The last time she’d seen such a crest fallen expression was when they’d lost John. “We were hunting.” She nodded. The last hunt they’d talked about was a werewolf and they'd called her asking for a way to un-turn somebody. “There was this girl who knew the victims.” She nodded again and thought to herself, _Let him speak at his own pace. Let him say what he wants to._ That was something she’d learnt over the years with Dean Winchester. You couldn’t make him talk even if you wanted him to, you had to let him talk on his own terms. “Sammy babysits her whilst I track down the wolf that bit her. I killed him only-” he paused, opened his mouth, closed it and sighed. “Only he wasn’t the only one. She was a sweet chick and Sammy had a thing for her. I offered to do it myself you know, considering she almost ripped his heart out, but-”

Her throat dried up. He didn’t need to finish it for her to know how that story ended. “Poor Sammy,” she muttered.

“Yeah,” he said, sinking his head back into the crook of her neck. He brushed his nose against the skin there and simply held her.

She rubbed his back with soothing circles. If this was how Dean was feeling then she couldn’t imagine Sam. In the number of years she knew Dean she could count how many times he’d cried on one hand, with one finger. Then the number of times he spoke about anything stretched itself to all five of her fingers on one hand. Sam was in another league. “Where is he?”

“Upstairs. Said he wanted some time to himself. Bobby let him.”

She nodded and continued to rub circles on his back and placed the odd kiss to his temple. Having to put down somebody you cared about, she couldn’t imagine. On top of that letting your brother put down somebody they cared about. Her heart wrenched just from the thought. Sam. Of all people to have to deal with that, Sam. “How is he?”

Dean just shook his head. “Not good.” Another nod escaped her and she just closed her eyes. Several seconds passed before Dean mumbled, “How many?”

She blinked her eyes open and pulled her head back to stare at Dean. “What?”

He managed a small twitch to his lips as he shrugged a shoulder and said, “How many women?”

The corners of her mouth twitched and she shrugged. “Many.” She studied his face again, trying to discern where his mind was at before she kissed his cheek and let a tiny flicker of a smirk take over her lips. Dean needed a distraction and she would give it to him, “You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.”

“What?”

“What?”

“Come on,” he scoffed, his voice regaining some of his attitude, although his heart still wasn't completely in it, “I asked first. How many?”

She shrugged, “Told you, you tell me I tell you.”

His brows shot up, “You really wanna know?”

She shrugged again and she withdrew her arms from around his neck and turned to face the open hood. The spark plugs were in her pocket and she drew one out and leaned over the engine of the car. “I doubt you can remember all of their names anyway.”

“I remembered yours.”  
  
She turned her head up to him. “Mine doesn’t count.”  
  
He held his hands up, “And you can remember them? All of them? Including the men?”

She shrugged as she picked up the socket wrench. “Maybe.”

“Come on,” he muttered as he moved into her field of vision. She eyed him with a smirk. “Give me a ballpark.”

“Nope.”

Silence struck and she moved to put the first spark plug in its place. “You just going to leave me wondering?”  
  
“Yep.”

“Ten?”  
  
“Nope.”

“Twenty?”

She eyed him then and shrugged. “I know what you’re doing.”

“Was I close?”

“Dean, leave it.”

He shook his head and stood, his hands in his pockets, “You can’t leave a man guessing like this.”

“Watch me,” she said as she grabbed the second spark plug and put that back into place. A comfortable silence stretched itself out between them and she worked under his watchful eyes. By the time the third spark plug was in place she moved to the driver’s seat and started the engine. Everything looked and sounded fine and she nodded her head, turned the engine off and closed the hood of her car. The beer was back in her hands and she took a long gulp, rubbing the cloth in her other hand to try to clean it. “You two hanging around a couple of days then?”

Dean nodded around his bottle, “Hopefully.” He stopped anything else coming from his mouth and fixed his eyes on the back door to Bobby’s. When she looked she found Sam walking towards them, a beer in his hands.

“Hey Sam,” she said.

He nodded and took a seat on the hood of her car. She and Dean shared a look before she nodded her head away. He took the message, “I need another beer. You two?”

Sam shook his head and so did Charlotte. She waited until he was out of sight before she leant against the hood of her car, an arm brushing his leg. “How you holding up?”

“I’ve been better.” She nodded. Sam was just like Dean, he would say what he wanted when he wanted, only he was more willing to. “In all the years that Dad taught us about hunting he always made it seem so black and white.”

She nodded. “It isn’t always the case.”

A sharp single laugh escaped him and he shook his head, grimace in place. “What’s the point of this if innocent people end up dying in the end anyway?”

 _Uh oh._ She’d had enough of these conversations with Dean and Sam. Enough of them to know that whenever it came up now it was because they were getting tired. Tired of hunting. Tired of getting hurt. Tired of watching people die. Tired of everything. So was she, but everybody knew it wasn’t so easy to quit. It was always just one more hunt, just one more.

“I know Sam.”

“Madison hadn’t done any harm in her life. You know that right? She was completely innocent. And I had to kill her.”

Charlotte ducked her eyes. _Let him speak. Let him speak._ “I know.”

He shook his head. “This sucks. This- this life. Hunting.”

The wry chuckle that escaped her couldn’t be helped, “I know.”

He turned his eyes towards her and she levelled a look with him. “Is it ever going to get easier? I mean, are we going to be able to stop cause I for one, would like to have a life.”

 _So do I Sammy. And so does Dean. We just don’t know how to._ “Yeah, I know that feeling.”

He sighed and shook his head. “It sucks this job.”

“Somebody’s got to do it.”

“Us? Who said that we had to do it?”

“We don’t. But nobody else will.”

Sam sighed again and Charlotte sighed with him. That was the awful truth about the matter. If they didn’t do the job nobody else would and more people would die. Sad simple truth and it made her gag inside. “I just wish we could change that.”

“Maybe one day,” she muttered and she took the last swig to finish her drink. “But I think for now, you should drink, get drunk, cry, if that’s your deal, and hunt even harder. One day we’ll all hang up our guns and quit.”

“One day,” he muttered.

She nodded. “One day.”


	56. 2007 - April part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the Djinn episode! Enjoy. (Sorry it's late)

_Kansas - Lawrence_

His heart raced. His chest heaved. And it was dark. And he was in bed. Half naked. When he turned his head an inch he spotted the naked woman lying next to him. And he didn’t recognise her, didn't remember climbing into bed with anyone. Within seconds he was out of the comfortable bed, dressed and scrolling through his phone, letting his feet carry him throughout the apartment? He did a double take: _Who’s apartment_ _was he in_ _?_

Fingers trailed up to the necklace he wore and he grimaced. That was not his necklace. Sam’s number found its way to his screen and he dialled. “Come on, pick up Sammy, pick up,” he muttered, eyes moving around the walls of the small hallway. It seemed cosy and lived in and Dean wondered how he'd ended up somewhere so far off his usual track.

“Dean?” Sam grumbled, his voice laced with a hint of sleep, “What’s up?”

“Sammy, I, I don’t know. I don’t know where I am.”

And his little brother’s voice grew concerned as it said, “What happened?”

He racked his brain, trying to remember what happened last. The Djinn. He and Sam were hunting a Djinn and.... “The Djinn. It attacked me and-”

Sam laughed, “You’re drinking gin?”

He frowned. Gin? Dean hated that stuff. He’d snuck a sip of the stuff when he was seventeen and swore to never touch it again. Sam knew that. “No asshat, the Djinn, the creature. Remember? It did something to do me because next thing I know I’m waking up next to this hot chick-”

“You mean Carmen?”

His brain stopped working for a few seconds. Carmen? “Who?”

Sam laughed again, “Dean, you’re drunk. You’re drunk-dialing me.”

It took a hell of a lot for Dean to get drunk and he knew that he was far from it. Even more so, Sam would not be his first port of call to drunk dial. “I am not drunk. Quit screwing around. Is this a prank? You and Charlotte pulling a stunt on me?”

“Dean, who’s Charlotte?”

He stopped walking to stare at his phone. Who was Charlotte? The pain in the ass woman who’d they’d known for twenty years. “Charlotte Dixon, you know, blonde? Tall? Sexy? Hot?”

Sam sighed, “You've never mentioned a Charlotte before, and Carmen would kill you if she heard you right now. Just go to bed. It’s late, you might have been dreaming,” Dean opened his mouth to reply but Sam carried on, “so I’ll, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Before Dean had a chance to say anything Sam had hung up and left him without any answers, just a lot more questions. After several seconds of staring at his phone he finally moved. His feet pushed him forward and into a living room. Eyes roamed the surfaces for an explanation and he found a pile of unopened mail on a table. When he picked them up he read the name, Carmen, and the address. “Lawrence?” He was in Kansas? When he looked at the next few envelopes he saw his name and the same address. His brows furrowed even further, what kind of stunt was this? Another Trickster?

“Honey,” he dropped the letters and turned to face the half dressed woman that he’d woken up in bed with. “What are you doing up?” _Carmen_ , his mind supplied as he finally looked her over. She sure was a woman most men would kill for.

He faltered, his hands awkwardly moving to his waist, across his chest, by his side before he settled for smiling, “Hey, Carmen, uh-”

“Couldn’t sleep huh?” The way she spoke and the way she looked at him had him wondering how well she knew him because he did not know her. She moved across the room until she stood by his side, a warm smile on her face, and she settled her hands on his waist to peer up at him, “Let me see if I can change that huh?”

An awkward smile worked its way onto his face, “Yeah, sure, erm, ju- just give me a minute.”

“Alright. Don’t stay up too long,” and she pulled his face down to meet hers. Soft lips. Excellent kiss. He could stand to kiss her a little longer, if something wasn't incredibly wrong with everything right now. When she pulled away he smiled and followed her body with his eyes. She was nice, he’d grant her that, but something wasn’t right.

His hands fumbled for his phone and he scrolled through the contacts. He didn’t recognise half of them and the one he was looking for wasn’t there. He set his mind to work, digging out the numbers that were dormant somewhere. It took him a while but he managed to drag out the number he wanted. Three rings later and a tired sounding voice said, “Yeah?”

“Charlotte?”  
  
A pause. “Yeah?”  
  
“Dean. Dean Winchester?”

“How’d you get my number?”  
  
He frowned. “You gave it to me?”

There was silence and his frown only deepened. What was going on? “No I didn’t.” A pause. “I think you’ve got the wrong number,” and she hung up on him.

For several seconds he just stared at his phone. This couldn’t be happening. He lifted his eyes to stare at the room he was in. Something wasn’t right. A set of keys on a table caught his attention and he grabbed them, grabbed a jacket and some shoes and left. At least his Impala was the same as he’d left her.

He got in, turned it on and started on a path to Bobby’s. If there was one man in the world who knew what was going on it was him. When he pulled up to the old salvage yard in the early hours of the morning he noted the familiar sights that greeted him and knocked with a smile itching at the corners of his mouth. The man himself answered with a frown, “Yeah?”

“Bobby?”

He eyed Dean for several seconds, “The hell are you?”

His mood deflated and he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Dean. Erm, Dean Winchester.” He felt his phone buzz and chose to ignore it.

Bobby had narrowed his eyes at him. “I don’t know any Dean Winchester.”

Dean’s phone buzzed again and he let it go to answer phone, “I need help. Please, you gotta help me.”

“Oh, I gotta help you do I? And why in the hell would I help you? I don’t even know you.”

“Bobby, it’s a Djinn okay?”

The older man froze and Dean waited for the man to move. It took several seconds and he did with a disbelieving whisper of, “A Djinn?”

“Yeah. A Djinn. I’m waking up in a world where I never hunted and-”

“Where are you from, boy?”

Dean blinked before he mumbled, “L-Lawrence, Kansas.”

“Djinn don’t just walk around cities son. They hide with the rats and don't bother turning any regular city boy.” He deflated. His phone rang again. “You better get that and get off my porch.”

The door was closed in his face and Dean took a few moments to remain standing there before he skulked off to his car. Something was definitely wrong. He needed to figure out a way to stop this, whatever this was. When his phone buzzed again he pulled it out of his pocket, “What?”  
  
“Where are you?” It was Sam.

“I’m busy, Sam.”

“Well Carmen’s worried about you.”

“Well I don’t know, Carmen.”

Sam scoffed. “You’ve been dating Carmen for years now. Of course you-” he sighed. “Have you been drinking again?”

“What?” Dean frowned and snapped, “No. Why’d you keep asking me that?”

“Whatever, look, I’m just calling to remind you to make it to Mom’s dinner later?”

“Mom?”

There was a sigh, “It’s her birthday.” _She’s alive_ , was all that he could think and suddenly things started to slide into place. If there was one thing Dean would want, over everything, it was that his Mother had never died, that they'd never hunted and that he'd been able to kiss his Mom goodnight, say hi to her everyday, have her cut the crusts off his sandwiches. Alive. “Dean?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there.” He closed his phone and let his eyes stare off into the distance. Mom. She was alive. Within the next sixty seconds he was in his car, the engine running and turning back to Kansas, back to where he was born. The family home was just as he remembered it and he couldn’t wait to get out of his car, rush to the front door and ring the bell.

And as though he was in a dream his Mom answered the door. “Dean, honey,” she said with a smile.

He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t resist stepping into the house and wrapping his hands around her. “Happy Birthday, Mom,” he whispered, trying to keep the tears in check.

Hours later, after he’d visited a University to ask about Djinn lore and wish making, after he almost got hit by a car because he was too busy staring at a strange girl in a filthy dress, once he’d changed into a shirt and tie, which was so not his thing, they finished his dinner with Sam’s announcement about his engagement to Jessica. Dean couldn’t help the grin he wore all through dinner. His brother was happy. His Mom was alive. Jess was alive. Sam and Jess were getting married, they were both happy, excited, Dean was happy. It was great. Yeah, his Dad had died, but at least it wasn’t to save his dying ass.

He swallowed that thought away as they prepared to leave, grabbing jackets and purses. Dean couldn't stop himself from grabbing his brother into a hug and he said, “I’m really glad you’re happy man.”

“Thanks Dean.”

And over the Sam's shoulders he spotted the sight of the same young girl from before, still dressed in a raggity white dress. Her face was pale, eyes sunken sockets and her expression blank and he swore she looked familiar. He moved in her direction, brushing past his brother and trying to get past a crowd of people that were being shown their table. When he could walk past them he stopped and stared; she was gone, just like last time. And when he turned to face his family they were all staring at him with worry.

Later that night, once Carmen had left for her work at the hospital as a nurse, Dean’s mind ran a little wild at that thought, he put his feet up and watched the TV, his favourite beer in hand. The feeling that something was wrong was back in the pit of his stomach, but he liked his life, if this was it. He had a nurse for a girlfriend, his Mom was alive, Sammy was happy with his fiancé, Jess, who was alive.

Thoughts of Charlotte and Bobby drifted into his mind and he picked up his phone. The number glared at him from on the screen and he sighed before he pressed dial. There was no way he made up every single night with Charlotte right? He wasn’t crazy was he? Plus her number was real, Bobby had been real, he'd known about Djinn.

Four rings later and she picked up, “Look, whoever you are, just leave me alone.”

“No, no, don’t hang up, please.”

She sighed and he swore if he could see her she’d have a small frown on her face, twisted with concern. “What?”

He opened his mouth. Why did he call her? “Have we met before?”

“No.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.”

He smirked. That was so her. “Do you think everything’s a little strange?”  
  
“What?”

“Like something’s not right?”

“Something's never right.”

He sighed. “What do you know about Djinn?”  
  
“Rarely seen and it takes a silver knife dipped in lambs blood to kill them. Why?”

He shook his head, “Just curious. Hey Charlotte, one more thing.”

“What?”  
  
He sat forward in his seat and cleared his throat, trying to think of a way to put his next question. “I know this may seem a little too personal, with you never having actually met me-”

“Right?”

“But erm, are you happy?”

“What?”

“Are you happy with your life? With everything?”

He could hear the shrug, “Yeah. I- I guess.”  
  
“What about your Dad?”

He could hear the hesitance in her words, “Yeah he’s fine. Look, Dean, no offence but this is getting a little awkward.”  
  
He grinned. “I know.”

“Who are you?”

“Just a guy.”  
  
“Just a guy who happens to have my number and happens to be asking some strange questions?”

He smiled. “Yeah, I guess.” He sighed. “You ever wish you could live a normal life?”  
  
Then she laughed. “I am living a normal life thank you. Or at least I’m pretty close to normal, minus a couple of things.”

The news on the channel had him nodding his head before he realised what it was talking about. The demon on the plane that he and Sammy had put down. The one that they apparently didn’t put down and had killed all of the survivors from the first crash. “I got to go,” he said, eyes fixed on the screen. Minutes later and he was scrolling through the internet, looking up the people he, Sam and his Dad had saved over the years. Or at least should’ve saved.

Many had died because he and his family never became hunters. That hit him hard.

A passing figure had him standing and moving to his bedroom. The closet called to him and he took several cautious steps until he was in front of it. He grabbed the handles and he pulled open the door, jumping back from the sight. Skeletons were hung up by their wrists, skin brown, wrinkled and dry. A noise forced him to turn his back on the closet to come face to face with the same woman as before. Only this time she was flickering, as though she were a ghost. When he cast his eyes over his shoulder the skeletons were gone and so was the flickering girl.

“ _Dean, listen to me,”_ it was the same voice of the guy that had somehow dispelled the demon from Sam.  
  
“Who the hell are you?” he shouted to the room, eyes moving to get a fix on the source of the voice. It came from everywhere and Dean turned in circles.

“ _I can’t do anything for you in this state. You must fight this. Only you can get yourself out of this.”_

Just as quickly as it had come it left, leaving him in silence.

A short drive later had him standing over his Dad’s grave, staring down at the slab of granite with his hands stuffed into his pockets. “All those people that we saved, dead. Just cause Mom never died?” He scoffed. “Then there’s a woman, a ghost maybe, haunting me. Why? I don’t know.” He stared harder at the gravestone. “If you were alive you’d tell me to go find that Djinn. What’s my happiness for the sake of their lives right?” He shook his head. “Why shouldn’t I be happy? Why is it my job to save everybody else? Why do I have to be some kind of hero? Why can’t I just live a life, with Mom.” Tears began to burn the back of his eyes and these were the kind of tears Dean could not stop. They came in a slow trickle, marking his face with wet tracks. “What about us? Sammy? Mom? Me? None of us are supposed to be happy? Is that it? We have to sacrifice _everything_ for those people?” He shook his head and let out a choked single laugh. “Even Charlotte’s happy. And what? Her life has to get screwed up too? Is that it?”

As he finished his rant he heard thunder overhead, shook his head and turned. He was going to end this charade once and for all. Even if he didn't want to, even if he wanted to stay here for a little longer, just to pretend that everything was alright. This wasn't real, it wasn't his life and he knew what he had to do. The lamb’s blood wasn’t easy to get but he managed to get it. Then he had to get a silver knife. He knew his Mom must’ve had some silver knives so he broke in. _It isn’t even real_ , he told himself.

Then Sam had interrupted him, accused him of owing gambling debts and being in need of help. Dean had said he’d be back and that he had something to do. Then Sam was jumping into his car with him, telling him he’d keep an eye on him, look out for him. Dean had snorted at that.

Now, a few hours later, after getting to the same place he’d been casing for the Djinn, seeing it and the girl, letting it walk from sight, he found himself surrounded by Sam, Carmen, Jess and his Mom. They tried, they tried so hard to get him to stay and every single fibre of his body was begging him to stay. Be happy. Screw everybody else.

“ _Who the hell are you?”_

“ _Sam, I’m here to help your brother.”_  
__  
“No, no, I’m not buying it.”  
__  
“The Djinn is dead and that girl is saved. Now your brother just needs to wake up.”

“ _What are you?”_

Those voices, of Sammy, his little brother who needed him to look after him, and the strange guy who swore he was a friend, called to him. The tears were back, crawling down his face as he eyed his Mother. He had to say goodbye. Again. “I’m sorry,” he whispered before he used the knife on himself.

And like that the world snapped back to the warehouse. Sam was in front of him, trying to wake him up a little more. “I thought I lost you for a second there,” Sam said.

“You almost did,” Dean admitted.

He tried to pull his eyes up to find the source of the other guy, but he was nowhere in sight. The girl he’d been seeing in his fake world was before him, let down on a blanket. Then his hands were free and Sam was easing him to the ground.

Back in the motel, once he felt better and once the girl was taken to the hospital, Dean flicked through a magazine and stopped on a beer commercial. Carmen. A model for an ad. A faint smile appeared on his face and he sighed, dropped the magazine and grabbed his phone. “I’ll be a minute,” he said as he stepped outside, calling Charlotte.

“Hello?”

“What? No, ‘hi, nice to see you’re alive’ speech?”

“Meh, we couldn’t get rid of you even if we tried.” He laughed. “You okay?”

He nodded, turned his eyes to the moon and sighed, the corner of his eyes crinkling with anything but humour. Was he? Was this what he wanted? Back water motels and the risk of death with no reward? “Yeah,” he managed after a few moments. “I’m good.”


	57. 1983 - April/June

_Montana – Shelby_

The past year, Remiel had spent his time keeping his mouth shut tight and his words careful as a witch hunt had started to take place in Heaven. One wrong slip of his tongue and every single pair of eyes in heaven looking in his direction.  
  
As much as he should’ve stayed away, he couldn’t help it. One year. She’d been alive for an entire year and he’d done his best to stay away. But today he allowed himself to be near her, to watch. Her parents grinned as she became entirely enthralled with the single toy of a soft teddy bear more than anything else.

And trying to get her to open presents.

He smiled as he watched from the doorway, invisible to their eyes and those above him. Secrets and lies. Dancing around and trying to keep his head low. This was a secret worth keeping.

In his pocket sat a small bracelet. He’d had it created especially for her with hopes that the small beads, imbedded with enochian symbols, would hide and protect her much better than he ever could hope to. He watched her blue eyes smile as the bear was pulled close to her body, her face pressed into the soft fur.

His smile didn’t waver and he let his fingers run themselves over the bracelet, wondering how he was going to get this on her. He would have to talk to Helen and that was raising the stakes.

Somewhere in his mind came a noise, calling him back, telling him there was a matter of emergency. He sighed and allowed himself to fall back and mingle with his own kind.

1983 – June

_Montana – Shelby_

It had taken him two months to get any space or time to go back and see. Except he was taken to her by another Angel. “It is wrong,” Fraciel said, his eyes fixed on the crib below them.  
  
Remiel’s stomach turned, not just with the knowledge of where his thoughts were going to go, but of the idea that the others could just as easily stand over Charlotte's crib and do whatever they wanted. “What’s done is done.”

Fraciel turned green eyes on to Remiel's bright blue ones. There was a sneer to his mouth as he said, “Oh come on, none of us are happy with what’s happened and _it_ shouldn’t be allowed to live. It shouldn't have happened in the first place.”

“God does not demand we kill her.”

“It’s an _it_ not a her.” Fraciel snorted. “I hope you’re not getting attached Remiel. Compassion is great for human perception but you are allowed to step away from that.

“One day,” he said, trying to keep his tone even, “I am to help her come back.”

“Maybe on that one day you shouldn’t.”

“Don’t you have people asking for your help?”

Fraciel stared at Remiel with narrowed eyes. “You’re getting a little sensitive on this aren’t you?”

“No, but God demands compassion for everyone.”

Fraciel shook his head. “Well we’re being told to keep an eye on her. Somebody’s been taking a look in every now and then apparently, but nobody’s been able to figure out who’s responsible.”

He shrugged. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Yeah.” Fraciel slapped a hand on his shoulder, “You take first watch. I’ve got a little something to do upstairs.”

Remiel nodded and a swish of fabric later he was alone with her. He took a step towards the crib and sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes softening as he lifted a hand into the crib to stroke her cheek, “but for a little while I can’t look in on you.” She gurgled up at him, eyes blinking blearily. He let one smile slip through as she reached out for his hand as he pulled it away. “I’ll do my best though,” he said. “I promise.”

She gave a single laugh and he nodded. He put his hands in his pockets and his fingers brushed the threads on the bracelet he hadn’t had chance to give to her yet. He sighed and pulled it out. “I can’t really give you this now,” he said. “It would raise too much suspicion.” He put the bracelet back into his pocket and stared down at the one year old girl. “I wish this scenario was any different,” he muttered.

Somebody moved in the house and he turned his head to the door and listened. Somebody, Peter, was moving towards the nursery. He cast one final look down to her, pressed two fingers to his mouth and pressed those fingers to her nose with a smile. “I’ll be watching you,” he whispered before he disappeared with a rustle of fabric.


	58. 2007 - May

Fat droplets of water marked their paths down her cheeks. _This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. No. No. No. No!_ It was hard to breathe through the tight constraints on her chest the panic was creating. No, not panic, absolute dread and fear. Heartbreak and horror. Something inside of her shattered like a mirror, its glass pieces scattering themselves far and wide. There was no coming back from this, no gluing the pieces back together.

Her knees were sunk in the mud, lifeless with not a single motivation left in any of the muscles. She couldn’t think let alone breathe or move. _No. Not him._ Her vision began to blur and the gun she’d held tightly to, as she'd ran in hopes of finding him alive, in need of saving, was gone. It slipped through her grasp and fell with an awkward clunk against her legs before it sat in the mud, stained, just like her jeans. She didn't care, couldn't care. All of the energy in her body just left and she was frozen in that spot.

But her gaze was fixed on the scene in front of her, the event still playing itself out in her mind. _We got here in time. Why? Why?_ _It's not fair!_ _We got here!_ She choked back a whimper and tried to will herself to move instead of just sitting there, caking her pants and shoes in mud. But it wasn’t worth it. There wasn’t a point to it.

Dean’s tears caught her ears, howling, crying and calling out for his brother to come back. Begging. Begging to his little brother to open his eyes. She would too if she could find her voice. It was lost somewhere, along with any desire to move or breathe. Whilst Sammy lay there, dead, clutched in his brothers arms, she couldn’t think.

They’d lost Ash. The Road House. Maybe Ellen. They couldn’t lose Sammy too. Little Sammy Winchester, the taller yet younger brother who had his whole life ahead of him. Who’d had terrible luck, a crappy start to life and an even crappier one later on. He didn’t deserve this. Out of all of them he deserved this the least. He deserved to live, not them. The tears continued to fall and she let her head fall forward, eyes closed tight as Dean’s tears hit her somewhere deep inside. _Please,_ she begged, _somebody do something._

She didn’t know what she was hoping for but the silence struck hard and she pulled her arms up to her chest, closing herself off to the world. Her body began to shake with quiet tears as everything started to build inside of her. Her Mom. Her Dad. John. Ash. Ellen. Now Sammy. She couldn’t take it. She’d seen enough death to never wish this on anybody. Ever.

The day had gone from bad to worse. Dean had called her to say that Sam was missing and the pain in his voice, the panic and worry was nothing compared to the man before her. That was an older brother, fearful for his younger sibling. This, in front of her, she opened her watery eyes and eyed Dean’s back, his arms wrapped around Sam’s lifeless body, whose face was a blank pale sheet of nothing, his eyes closed and his head slumped against Dean's shoulder, this was a man who’d lost everything. This was a man who she knew would not rest until he’d done something.

 _Something stupid knowing him._ But the tears grew and she couldn’t hold in the pain that wracked through her chest. Her voice came out as nothing but cries. The anger started to build and she curled her hands into fists, digging her nails into her arms.

They’d called Ash to see if he could do anything, find any trace of anything that would help them find Sammy. He had found something, something else, and now, they would never know what it was. The secret was buried, along with his burnt corpse.

She had thrown up at the sight of it. The smell had had her stomach roiling wildly away, but it was the sight that put her over the edge and emptied her stomach for what it was worth. Had she gotten the man killed? Asking him to look for Sam, to dig around. Is that what had ended his life? Her phone call? Her?

Her head fell again, and so did her arms. Her hands fell to rest on her knees, fingers brushing against the marred gun she’d dropped and she blinked her eyes open. The gun stared up at her and she tried to focus on the metalwork to push the shattering of Dean’s heart out of her ears.  
  
Shaky breaths came out in harsh whispers and she reached out and grabbed the gun in her hands. Having something to hold, something physical, let her tense her muscles and try to rid herself of some of that anger that was burning away her insides. Her vision began to turn red and she tried to find some sense in the muddle of her mind.

When she looked up to Dean’s shaking body, arms still clinging to the hope that Sam would open his eyes, she ground her teeth. The anger sunk itself in with a firm grip and she slowly pushed herself to her feet. Bobby stood on the other side, staring at her, Dean, Sam, her, a pitiful look in his eyes.

For him, losing somebody was the norm. It hurt, but he knew it was to be expected. But even Sam was too much, that much she could tell. He was too young for this.

For her, she’d had enough of her friends dying when they shouldn’t.

She turned her eyes to Dean and knew that he wouldn’t rest until something was done.

She fixed a firm expression on her face, determined to try to be strong, to try to provide some sort of balance and stared at Bobby, her pseudo Dad. He stepped around the brothers and came to stand next to her, one hand on her shoulder. He squeezed it and she only stared, teeth ground together, at the image before her.

The pieces of shattered glass, of her morale, were forced back into their frame and she imagined herself duct taping them together. She needed to pretend, to look as though she had it together. Inside she was ready to lose it, she was losing it, just on the brink of breaking down and telling the world to do with her whatever it wanted. She didn’t know what to do but she knew one thing.

Sammy was her little brother too. And somebody was going to pay.


	59. 2007 - May part 2

_South Dakota – Sioux Falls_

The tears still stung her eyes, desperate to fall. Again. She wiped a hand over her face once more and released a long, shaky breath. Charlotte let her eyes fix on the open hood of Bobby’s old wreck. She’d hoped it would help her to think, if her hands could do something and distract her from the building agony inside of her chest.

She wished she knew of some way to bring a person back from the dead. Something that was risk free to both Sam and herself. But there was nothing. Short of making a deal with a demon or a witch, there was nothing.

The wrench she had in her hand she threw against the blue door of her Pontiac a few yards away and she ground her teeth together. The tears were coming back. Dean had driven her and Bobby away hours ago, stuck in his own world whilst she fell further into her own pity. He was angry, upset, pissed and hell bent on a downward spiral into despair.

But so was she. Her anger at Dean, for driving her and Bobby away, started to boil and she curled her hands into fists. She was angry at the yellow eyed Demon for forcing them down this path. Angry at whoever that guy was that had stabbed Sam. Angry at herself, unable to do anything to bring Sam back. Angry at every monster and creature that made them take this life in the first place.

For the next few hours she’d done nothing but stare at the engine in front of her, unable to stop her thoughts travelling to the Winchesters, to Ash, Ellen and Jo. With a deep breath she slammed the hood shut and moved to grab herself a fresh beer.

Inside, Bobby was sat at the kitchen table, a tumbler of whiskey in hand. He lifted his head up to her and she met his gaze for a few seconds before she moved to the fridge. Charlotte pulled the door open, started to reach for a bottle before she turned to eye Bobby. He was watching her and he said, “You okay?”  
  
It took her a few seconds to respond, trying to kick down the anger that was boiling away, trying to keep back the tears that wanted to spill. She closed the door, ignoring the beer inside, and gave a single shake of her head. “No.” She reached for a second tumbler, sat it on the table next to the whiskey glass the older man had and grabbed the bottle. “No I am not okay.” She poured a double and took a sip, eyes staring at the amber liquid inside the bottle. “How’s Dean?”

Bobby sighed. “Won’t budge.”

She snorted and ducked her eyes further. She sniffed and took another sip of the burning liquid. “Can’t blame him.”

“Why don’t you go and talk to him?”

Charlotte lifted her eyes to meet his and held it for several seconds. Dean had said he’d wanted some space, to be left alone so she’d left him and hadn’t gone back, hadn’t even picked up the phone to call him. Several times she’d picked up her phone, scrolled to his name and almost hit dial. He needed to talk about it. So did she, but she didn’t want to. Dean wouldn’t listen or talk and she wouldn’t know what to say. Bury him? Burn him? She didn’t want him to. She wanted Sam back, so did Dean. And if she knew Dean she knew he would be pissed. Mix that with her own growing anger and somebody was going to boil over too far.

She shook her head, the muscles in her jaw tight. “No. Wouldn’t do any good. He wouldn’t listen even if I begged him to.”

Bobby sighed again but the younger woman kept her gaze away from his. “At least pick up the phone and call him.”

She turned her back on him and lifted her eyes to fix them on the open doorway. A couple of stray tears skidded down her face and she shook her head once more. “And say what? Sam’s dead get over it?” The anger bit down on her tears and she let her head fall forward to stare at the floor and mumbled. “That he needs to move on? How?” She turned, her voice starting to rise. “How can I say that when _I_ can’t move on?! This isn’t fair!” Bobby’s wide eyes forced her to reign in her growing voice and in a normal tone she said, “This ain’t right. Anybody but Sam.”

A knock interrupted anything Bobby would say and they both turned to stare at the door. He was the first to move. She took another sip, reducing the size of her drink to that of a single now and she stared at the wooden door. Dean’s voice saying ‘Hi’ had her frowning. But her frown only deepened into one of shock and fear when she heard Sam say ‘Hi’ too. Then the taller Winchester was walking into the house, a smile on his face. “Hey Charlotte,” he frowned brown eyes at her. “Are you okay?”

She wiped at her face and nodded. “Yeah,” her ears caught the tail of end of Bobby’s and Dean’s conversation and she nodded again. “It’s,” she smiled awkwardly, the muscles in her cheeks straining against the tears and happiness at the sight of him. “It’s erm, good to see you up and about.”

“Yeah,” he laughed shortly and the tears were pushing again at the corners of her eyes. Dean walked in and she glanced at him, catching a sorry ass expression on his face. “Bobby did a good job.”  
  
“He did didn’t he,” she said. After a few seconds her fingers felt the glass in her hands once more and she finished off the drink before she moved to gingerly put it back on the table. She glanced at the boys once more and nodded her head to the junkyard, “If you’ll excuse me,” she said, “I was, doing…. something.”  
  
She turned and walked out. Her hands shook by her sides and she curled them into fists to try to steady her racing heart. He was alive. Sam. Alive. Living. Breathing. Dean. He’d done something. If his sorry assed expression was anything to go by it wasn’t a story with a happy ending.

Her feet carried her to Bobby’s car and she settled her hands flat on the hood of the car. Her mind worked, trying to figure out what Dean had done, what dumb ass stunt he’d pulled. With closed eyes she listened to the shuffling of feet behind her. She lifted her head to stare off in the opposite direction, already knowing who would be dragging their feet behind them, as she tried to figure out how pissed she was right now.

The shuffling feet continued to move, getting closer until they stopped a few feet away. Her fingers pressed against the metal of the car and she felt the muscles in her jaw tighten that little bit more. She was really pissed. “Charlotte?”

She stood, awkwardly shifting her weight from one foot to the next and back. It took several deep breaths for her to turn and face him, anger clearly written across every inch of her features. His shameful look did nothing to shift her thoughts or feelings. “What did you do?” she demanded

He lifted his head just a few inches and he took a deep breath. His hands were buried deep in the pockets of his jacket and she watched his eyes study her, gauging her. “Charlotte,” and she swore his voice almost broke towards the end of her name. “I had to.”

She took a step towards him, “What. Did. You. Do?” and she continued to walk until she stopped a foot away.

For a brief moment he looked away, then he looked down, his mouth open, waiting for the words to fall. He jerked his head up, mouth still open and said quietly, “I made a deal.”

Everything hit her then. The cap she’d put on her anger blew off and she let a fist loose, connecting with Dean’s jaw. He stumbled back, a hand to his face and his eyes to her, shocked at the sudden outburst.

But she wasn’t through. A deal. A deal, with a demon. And she could bet her ass he didn’t have ten years. She marched forward, wrapped her hands in the collar of his jacket and pushed him back until he hit the side of the house. Her hands kept a firm hold as she pressed him further into the wooden structure. When she spoke her anger came out in a deadly whisper, “How long?”

Dean did nothing to bat away her hands or get her off of him. He let his hands fall to his sides, his head leaning back against the house in defeat. “A year.”

Whatever pieces of her heart weren’t already gone from losing Sam were down the drain now. “Damn it!” she yelled, jerking her fists against him before she pushed herself two paces away from him.  
  
“That’s why we gotta find this yellow-eyed son of a bitch! I’m gonna kill him myself. I got nothing to lose now right?”   
  
She jerked her head in his direction, anger flaring again. “Nothing to lose? Oh,” she let out a shallow chuckle and glared at him, hands rearing to wrap themselves around his throat. “I’m gonna kill you Dean.”  
  
Now it was his turn to let the anger show. “And send me down ahead of schedule?!”  
  
“Yeah! Maybe I will!” She walked back up to him, squaring off to him, anger bouncing back to her from the waves of anger he was letting off. God she wanted to throttle him. Making a deal? Acting like nothing else matters but putting the yellow-eyed bastard down that started this mess?

He was the first to break the staring contest. “I’m not even supposed to be here!” Dean exploded, “Dad brought me back so maybe this way, some good could come out of it. You know, like, like maybe, maybe my life could mean something!”  
  
“It already meant something you dick!” Tears were begging to be let loose again and she wanted to throw herself around Dean, punch him, slap him, throttle him, hold him. She hated him. She hated him so much.

“Well I couldn’t let him die!” The anger dissipated into tears from him and she felt herself beginning to kick herself. She didn’t want Sammy to die either. But a deal? With a demon? Part of her was angry at herself for not thinking of it first. “He’s my brother.”

“He’s my brother too,” she whispered, tears beginning to blur her vision.  
Dean frowned at her, confusion written across his face through his own murky tears. “What?”

She shoved her hands against his chest, slamming him back into the house. “We’re family! You, me, Sammy, Bobby. Family! We’re in this together you son of a bitch. And now we gotta watch you die?”

A few tears escaped his eyes and made a wet track down his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he managed.

She wrapped her hands in the folds of his jacket once more, eyes narrowed dangerously into a glare on him, tears beginning to stream down her face without control. “You better be sorry Dean Winchester,” she quietly muttered, and her body started to shake. All of the emotions, all of the anger, the pain, the tears, it came out now and she dropped her head to his shoulder, holding onto him as her body shook with silent tears.

He rested his chin against her shoulder, closed tearful eyes and finally brought his arms up to hold her against himself. He held on tight, fisting his hands into the fabric of her shirt and shoving his face into her neck. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again.

Her very quiet, muffled voice said, “I hate you.”

He smiled painfully, kissed her cheek and said, “I hate me too.”


End file.
